The Psychology of You
by LiveToLie
Summary: Jim is granted two weeks shore leave in an attempt to recover before Starfleet deems him emotionally compromised. Spock goes with him, issued to monitor his behavior, and in doing so, the two are forced to face facets of their relationship more easily bypassed when indulged in the formal attitude of the Enterprise. All because Spock had to go and label Jim his... t'hy'la. Spirk
1. Chapter 1: Out of Sorts

**The Psychology of You**

**Summary: **Plagued by irrational nightmares following Janice Lester's horrible reaping of his consciousness, Jim is granted two weeks shore leave in an attempt to recover before Starfleet deems him emotionally compromised. Spock goes with him, issued to monitor his behavior, and in doing so, the two are forced to face facets of their relationship more easily bypassed when indulged in the formal attitude of the Enterprise. Feelings that, without their unplanned retreat together, might have gone ignored and unrealized.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Star Trek. Bam.

_Chapter 1: Out of Sorts_

"I agree that what Dr. McCoy has issued holds merit," he reasoned, Kirk staring up at him rather indignantly from his seat. "You have been through a rather catastrophic mental ordeal. Resting for the remainder of the day would be in your best interests." Lips pursing further, the Captain was contemplative as he considered his first officers words before finally speaking.

"If I didn't know any better," he began, "I'd say that perhaps you and Bones really were planning a mutiny against me." A single brow began to rise above Spock's eye. "However," Kirk didn't attempt to hide his irritation, "I find the _logic_ of that statement to be unfounded."

"I would certainly hope so," Spock agreed. "After all, if a true mutiny were the objective, seeking out the truth behind Janice Lester's actions would not have helped our cause any. Besides Captain, there are-"

"I was being sarcastic Spock," Jim interrupted, immediately regretting how his tone snapped. However, if Spock was offended, he didn't show it. Rather, his face remained as impassive as ever, somehow making the Captain feel even guiltier than before. "I have already given my report to Starfleet," he blundered forward, "and trust that Janice is in the capable hands of Dr. McCoy, so I suppose that I have nothing terribly urgent to attend to now. If Bones believes that rest is the best thing for me, then I suppose I have no choice. You are more than capable of running the Enterprise without me for a little while."

Spock nodded his agreement, seemingly bypassing his Captains out of sort's attitude. "I will leave you then," he stated, easily able to conclude that, with Jim accepting the terms, he was no longer needed, "and head back to report to Dr. McCoy."

Jim nodded and waved him off, his hands then going to his temples as he closed his eyes. Spock didn't immediately respond, instead remaining still as he stared at his superior. Nothing crossed his expression, not a single tremor shook his body, and after taking a somewhat deeper breath than was actually necessary, he realized that his actions, or lack of them, were unreasoned and turned away. Without looking back, he headed to the doors, which opened to allow him passage, and left.

The walls closed between them once again.

Sighing deeply, Jim leaned forward in his chair until his elbows were supported on the table in front of him, eyes still closed. He tried to push away the headache that crowded into his skull, but no amount of mental force would alleviate the pain, just as he'd been unable to press back against the foreign feelings that had inhabited Janice Lester's body.

Around him, his quarters were silent except for the slight purring the ship, the Enterprise. Though the sound of his charge, of his love, generally comforted him, he could find no such relief now. His mind was too plagued by the unfamiliar, by things that he'd never seen yet felt as though he himself had lived through.

The dreams – nightmares.

Yes, his consciousness, memories and knowledge, had been transferred to Lester's body which, on the inside, left him as himself. But it wasn't quite as simple as that, as clear-cut as one entity encased safely inside another. There was a reason that such a transfer hadn't been successful, why even with the two of them it hadn't lasted. They weren't compatible.

The physical brain, the body, they worked in acquired patterns, in habits. And his mind hadn't been prepared for what Janice had left behind.

All the sedatives, all the dreaming…

It'd been so real.

_She'd_ actually experienced it, her body had been through the hurt and turmoil. And he'd been so far gone, so deadened into sleep, that for a while he'd been convinced it was real. That the pain and heartache had been his own to bear.

That it was he rather than she that had been left behind.

But it was worse for him. Janice had suffered, but she hadn't had the potential to lose what he had, not in the way the dreams had convinced him.

He'd been stuck, helpless, due to his own inadequacies. The Enterprise, it'd been yanked out from under him. His comrades had abandoned him, his status as Captain torn and tossed away. Everything he loved, cherished, it'd all been ripped from his control. He'd stood, staring and helpless, silent, as a cascade of emotions had tore through him. His own; Janice's. Her body remembered the feeling, only fed it further until, in his fevered, drugged state, he'd been convinced it was reality.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Over and over and over he watched a single scene replay. Once, it'd been _him_ walking away, Janice staring helplessly as he'd abandoned her to treat his own ambitions. She'd loved him, truly and honestly, and he'd tossed her to the wind as if she'd hardly marked his time at all.

Emotionless, he'd shredded her heart to pieces.

But now, this time around, the role had been reversed. It'd been him that was stationary, watching as the most important person in his life had walked away without a second glance. Again and again he'd walked out that door, always to never look back.

Because Spock wasn't the type to look back.

His best friend, his most loyal companion, he'd been forced to experience that desertion too many times to count, a scene that still haunted him even in his own body. The pain that Janice's body was accustomed to dreaming about; the real, heartfelt sorrow of being left behind.

Jim had felt it, the way he'd broken her, how his actions had driven her to insanity because he'd taken every ambition she'd ever had away with him, right at the side of her devotion and love.

And in response, his whole life had crumbled and always, every time, Spock had never looked back.

Never.

Standing, Jim forced his eyes open as he tried to push the feelings of terror and panic from his system. It wasn't logical, what he was thinking. He wasn't Janice Lester, he wasn't going to be abandoned or lose his crew.

Lose his best friend.

Spock would never desert him; he had to reason that. This was the man that, in the face of death and mutiny, had risked everything to make sure his captain made it through despite all lack of evidence. The man that had, more than once, put himself in harms way to protect his superior.

The friend that, when it'd become apparent he couldn't defend himself inside a strange woman's body, had taken his hand as a protector when the whole ship had been against him.

Spock wouldn't leave him.

He just wouldn't.

Pacing, Jim tried again and again to reinforce this point. But the fear never left him. It wasn't his own, it belonged to Janice, but for some reason it just wouldn't leave him be. He'd been through worse, almost died on many occasions. But this time was different. This time, his worst fears had actually happened. Not to him, but to Janice, and now he knew how she'd felt.

What it would be like to watch his closest friend, the person that knew him the best, walk right out of his life as if it were nothing.

Yes, Spock was cold, collected, but Jim knew he had some feeling, knew he would never disappear as if his captain meant nothing to him.

Yet that was what Janice had reasoned about _him_, but he'd left her without a second thought when the issue of his career had been breached. When it came down to choosing her or the captaincy.

Was Spock really that close to him? Or was he in just as much of a delusion as Janice had been?

It had all been too real, too solid; he just couldn't get over it.

Spock had just walked away.

Couldn't forget.

**oOo**

"I'm surprised he gave in so quickly," Dr. McCoy muttered while at the same time examining some sort of active test result. "I expected a much bigger fight, or some kind of insolent demand that he be allowed to command his own ship because he'd been out of commission for so long." Turning back towards Spock, McCoy held a thin, liquid filled tube up to the light and examined it with furrowed brows.

"I have to say that I too am a little taken aback by his behavior," Spock agreed, his lips slightly downturned. "Of course it is only logical that he have some time to recover, but he was hardly intent on resolving the situation after it happened. Generally the Captain is much less… shaken in such situations." Yes, he'd taken care of the necessary, but past that… well, he'd been reminded three times that he had to give a report before he'd finally gotten around to it.

Concern evident in the creases of his face, McCoy set his vile back into place before huffing. "Well, all his tests came back normal." He hadn't even objected to a physical examination. "All his vitals are in prime working order and all his psychological levels were as they always are. Aside from knowing that," McCoy shrugged and sighed, "there's not much I can do."

Spock glanced down at the floor thoughtfully, considering the doctors words.

"Are you worried?" McCoy questioned, knowing full well that Spock would never admit to such a thing. Yet, for once, there was no bitter teasing to the tone of his voice. "Was his behavior truly that odd?"

"It was not so much his behavior as…" Spock glanced back up at the concerned doctor. "As it was his expression. I am not an expert on human emotion _or_ expression, but he seemed quite…" Spock struggled to find the correct word, "apprehensive." Hopefully the right emotion to get across his meaning.

"Hmm," McCoy was thoughtful, his finger tapping his chin. "That is curious. The Captain isn't usually one to get nervous, especially now that the action is over." If he agreed, Spock didn't let it show, instead preferring to silently listen. "But, then again, this was the first time that such a switch has ever been successful. We have no prior knowledge to pull from, cases to learn from. Who's to know how this ordeal has affected him."

"Your tests show that there have been no effects to his physical or mental state," Spock reasoned. "The fact that his body has been uninjured is obvious, but if his mind has also remained unaffected, then-"

"I understand the conclusion you're coming to," McCoy interjected somewhat shortly. "And can I also assume that, because I know you've studied human behavior quite conclusively, that you know there is another facet that cannot be registered in any technical sense by any of my instruments?"

"Emotion of course," Spock stated, not at all offended that he'd been interrupted. He did raise a single eyebrow before continuing however. "Are you suggesting that the Captain has been… emotionally compromised?" It was an odd variable to consider. Yes, Captain Kirk was a rather emotional man, but he was generally capable of keeping a level head anyway. And even when he was overtaken by his feelings, it was never to the point of being unable to function, at least, not once logic and a calm atmosphere had been reached again.

To suggest that he was emotionally compromised was to argue that even with the previous issues resolved, he was still unable to act as necessary. Even in the direst of circumstances, the captain had always pulled through in the end. Lasting effects… it was hardly fathomable based on his previous history.

"Do you not think that is a rather illogical conclusion to come to currently?" Spock asked, sounding almost defensive to McCoy's ears, who smiled slightly but made no comment. "Hardly more than two hours and three minutes have passed since we overcame Janice Lester's manipulation. Certainly, if we are considering human behavior, then it is only logical to give the Captain more time before assuming he is incapable of commanding the Enterprise."

"Are you afraid I'm going to deem Jim unfit?" McCoy questioned, smiling wider. "Come on now Spock, I'd never just throw him overboard because it'd be _logical_ to do so. I'm far too emotionally human to consider the notion." He really was smiling now, an expression that's meaning seemed to be eluding Spock. "I'm confident he'll pull through whatever is ailing him. It's a simple matter of figuring out what will be best to get him there."

"What is your diagnosis then?" Spock asked reasonably as McCoy walked across the lab and picked up a PADD, apparently going back to work despite the fact that their conversation obviously wasn't over.

"My diagnosis?" McCoy was forced to pause once more, his eyes drawn again to Spock. "Well I don't exactly have one." He took a moment to gather his thoughts, aware that he was talking to a vulcan. "The best thing for Jim in this situation would be to offer comfort and if he denies it, act as normally as possible. That's, at best, the most we can do. And wait to see how he carries himself from this point onward."

"Comfort?" Spock cocked his head only slightly to the side. "The Captain has never requested such a thing before?" McCoy did laugh then, shaking his head before sighing. Laying his PADD back down on a nearby counter, he seemed to finally accept that he'd have to talk to Spock whether he wanted to or not.

"Comfort isn't something you request Spock," he explained. "It's engrained in our genetics, in our behavior-"

"Your human behavior."

"- We desire it and give it in turn," McCoy ignored what only _Spock_ could possibly see as an important variable. "It's not something that's asked for, but is assumed to be a necessity. And if it turns out that it is not needed, there are subtle, or blatant, ways to sense that the person is not interested." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You yourself have probably witnessed it many times and even participated, though perhaps un-realizingly so."

"What, then, is the 'desired' human comfort?" Spock questioned.

"Speech," McCoy was able to answer quickly. "Being able to talk things through. vulcan feel no need to express anything," he pointed out, "but to humans, who suppress more than you seem to think, being able to confide that which they can't on a regular basis is one of the highest forms of relief. That, and physical touch."

"I am failing to see the logic in this," Spock stated and McCoy rolled his eyes. "Discussion won't change anything unless actions are determined from it, and physical touch will do absolutely nothing. You are right, I have seen both these techniques used both around and against me, but the point eludes me still."

"I think your logic is very self-centered," McCoy snapped, apparently beginning to lose his patience.

"Logic cannot be self-centered," Spock explained, not even the slightest bit fazed by the doctor's attitude. "Logic is derived from fact; it cannot possess such qualities. To say as much defeats the entire purpose of the idea itself."

"Well, Mister Spock, I'm going to have to disagree with you."

"A most illogical decision."

"You see, logic is derived from fact, but at the end of the day, that's not what it is. I'm a doctor, I understand fact very well, but logic is a thought process _assigned_ to a way of thinking. Plain and simple, it's just as victim to interpretation as anything. The logic that you possess, _vulcan_ logic," that last he said with a tone of disgust, "is indeed logical to you and may serve in the same light to many other races, including humans, but that doesn't mean it's universal."

"I beg to differ Doc-"

"The logic of _humans_," McCoy cut him off, "stems from our history. As half of such, I'm sure you're familiar with our past. We are, as a stereotype, characterized as group entities, meaning we are most comfortable when we're surrounded by our counterparts. Yes, we are able to separate, but we still prefer, when under emotional duress, to have company. To talk. To touch. It assures us that we are not alone in having to go through pain, through sadness; that how we feel will not last forever because those around us are able to provide positive stimulation. Happiness. Entertainment. _Comfort_. When assaulted by an emotional disturbance, you vulcan shell yourselves up, but to humans it is a terrifying experience. The knowledge that others understand assures us that what we feel will pass, that though our feelings are illogical, it's okay." He shrugged, very quickly growing tired of explaining something he saw as so simple.

"If what you say is true," Spock started, "then who is to take on the burden of comforting the Captain? If you have a solution, then why have you not taken steps to prescribe it?" McCoy felt seriously as though he might strangle the pointy-eared devil right then and there.

"Jim would not take kindly to me tellin' him he needs to see a psychiatrist Mister Spock," McCoy explained through gritted teeth. "That would be insinuating the he is already emotionally compromised."

"Then who is to provide the 'comfort' you speak so highly of?"

"I don't know!" McCoy snapped in exasperation. "Someone close to him, a good friend. And someone who doesn't have a medical background so he doesn't feel pressured to perform as expected. I'd go speak to him, but he'd never be honest with me about such a thing. So maybe…" His voice trailed off as he considered who Jim would possibly feel comfortable confiding in, but was coming up empty handed.

Truly, he _was_ the captain; it had never been his job to be vulnerable.

"_You_ go talk to him if you're so concerned," McCoy finally decided as he turned away from Spock.

"Me?" Spock raised his eyebrows. "That is highly illogical. I would be the last of all candidates able to provide the reliefs you have just described." Yet even as he said it, he ignored the pull at the back of his brain. The human inside of him wanted to argue that though vulcans did assume shame in the face of expressing their emotions, it was also terrifying. At least, it was for him, but perhaps he was alone in his secret sentiments.

"I doubt it," McCoy replied halfheartedly as he turned away from Spock. "You _are_ a vulcan after all, one of the few that could possibly comprehend what Jim went through. Your mind-melding isn't so different from what happened, at least as far as I've come to understand."

Spock considered McCoy's reasoning. "Even so, I am hardly qualified in every other way."

That was it; he'd finally run out of patience.

"Dammit Spock!" Generally he didn't have to sink to such words with the half-vulcan. "I'm a doctor, not a human behavioral textbook! Would you just leave me be already?!" Huffing, the doctor slammed his hands down on a counter and began muttering to himself.

Spock raised his eyebrows. "Doctor," McCoy growled out loud, "it has come to my attention that I have spent far too much time in the sickbay when considering that there is nothing inherently ailing me." He nodded his head shortly. "I will leave you to your work now." Turning on his heel, he headed towards the doors.

"That's right," McCoy muttered, swiveling his head over his shoulder. "Get out of here you green-blooded hobgoblin." Yet as he fell silent, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he watched the doors close behind the commander's retreating back.

Staring straight ahead, Spock considered his options as his feet carried him down the hall. His thoughts, as they had been nearly all day, were focused on the captain. He knew he should be thinking of his responsibilities as the current superior in command of the Enterprise, but as far as he could tell, everything was in working order. They were headed for the nearest Starfleet base to drop Janice Lester and her companion off in safer hands before continuing on with their next mission. Unless called upon, there was nothing productive he could accomplish on the bridge at the current time.

Pausing as he came to a fork in the hall, he furrowed his eyebrows as he considered his options. Having already come to the conclusion that going to the bridge would be an unfortunate waste of his time, he had but a few alternatives. Going back to his room to meditate was always open and generally preferred to other pastimes. However, when Jim was concerned, he generally found that his desire to be alone was clouded by the unfortunate feelings he'd developed for the man.

If Jim requested his presence for anything, anything at all, he was always willing to oblige.

_"You are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe."_

Abruptly, those words rang inside his head. They'd been spoken by Jim himself, even if at the time he'd been inside Janice Lester's body. If that was true, and not even Spock was making himself available to offer "comfort" to the Captain, then who was? Of course, his natural character would deter Spock from comforting anyone no matter how close, so there was a chance someone could surpass him in this mindset, but even so, he couldn't imagine anyone that would approach their captain so personally other than the good doctor himself.

And Spock of course, if he had to.

So _did_ he have to?

His logic dictated that, because of the fact that he _possessed_ this logic, he could offer nothing, but the rational of humans was quite another matter entirely. McCoy had laid out a viable point, that vulcan logic differed from that of humans and that, whether Spock found it to be irrational or not, he had to abide by it if he wanted to understand human behavior.

Jim was his friend, an accident of the most unexpected kinds, and so he felt the desire to act on this fact. To do so however, he'd have to consider what it was that Jim needed.

And because of their friendship, to him, doing so was logical.

Taking a left, he set his feet in the proper direction now that he'd come to his conclusion. He garnered solutes and respectful nods as he passed, but he ignored them. Many of those who donned these mannerisms were humans, who were needlessly polite. To respect those above yourself was one thing; to pointlessly elevate them was another.

But humans would be humans he supposed.

After some minutes and a few detours through other corridors, he finally came to the door that he had been leaving only some forty-three minutes before. The closeness of the visits did not deter him however, nor did he even register it.

Jim, however, who sat on the other side, was rather surprised to be interrupted once again so soon.

"Yes?" he asked as he sat up in bed, his eyes flicking to the door curiously. He'd been under the impression that an order had been given not to disturb him; that his second in command was in charge currently.

"It is Commander Spock Sir," was the reply, which caused Jim's eyebrows to rise even further in junction with his surprise.

"Come in," he issued as he rose from bed. Spock did of course, the door sliding closed behind him as he entered, his hands folded behind his back. "Is everything alright?" Jim asked as he approached, concern evident on his expression. "I wasn't expecting another visit from you so soon." It was only logical to assume that the reason Spock would come to him now was because something horrific had occurred.

"Of course everything is alright," Spock replied easily, earning him further confusion as Jim slowed in his approach. "Why wouldn't it be?" Spock was staring at him as innocently as ever, his head cocking slightly to the side. No longer on red alert, Jim forced calmness into his demeanor as he tightened his lips in suspicion.

"Well then…" he walked over and stood behind a nearby chair, his hands clamped to the back. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you," Spock verified, his honest admission causing Jim's _own_ eyebrows to shoot higher than he'd expected.

"It's only been…" Jim located a clock, "forty-five minutes since-"

"Forty-seven."

"-you left. What could have possibly warranted needing an update this soon after leaving me?" Jim narrowed his eyes. "I feel almost as though you're babysitting me Spock…"

"I hardly see how that makes any sense Captain," Spock argued, as usual. "The term 'babysitting' derives from the action of someone other than the parents of a human child _watching_ that child. You are not a child. Yet if taken literally, it still doesn't correlate. You are not a baby and I certainly have no intention of sitting on you."

Jim sighed. "Of course," he agreed, glancing away for only a moment. "Let me just ask plain and clear then," an act that Spock would no doubt appreciate. "Why have you come to check on me?"

"Because you seemed out of sorts."

"Well, yes, I agree," Jim eyed him skeptically. "I am out of sorts, but that can be expected after what the day has brought me. It would be more concerning if I _weren't_ out of sorts."

"Most certainly Captain," Spock agreed. "But as far as you being out of sorts, you are rather _more_ out of sorts than even your typical out of sorts." Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "It would appear that what happened today had disrupted you past a normal expectation of disturbance."

Eyes darting to the side, Jim was easily able to comprehend what Spock insinuated despite his wording. His second in command had noticed how severely the switch had affected him.

"How perceptive of you Spock," he stated flatly, somewhat guarded now that the reality of his emotional state had been picked up on. "However, I fail to see how you checking in on me helps the situation." He was careful about what he said. If Spock and McCoy had been talking about him, which he was sure they had, then he wanted to make sure Bones hadn't sent his Second in an attempt to prove he was unfit.

Leonard was his friend, but, like his captain, would always think of the ship and those aboard first.

"My actions are based on the most solid of logics Captain," Spock began. "You said to me earlier today that no one in the whole of the universe was closer to you than I," Jim pursed his lips as he glanced to the floor, his cheeks pinking slightly. "And Dr. McCoy pointed out that, based on the 'logic' of humans," not Vulcan, "if someone is emotionally distressed, they may seek out the comfort of those closest to them. If that is the case, then I wanted to make sure I was available to you."

"So," Jim smashed his eyebrows together again, his fingertips rubbing his forehead as he tried to digest what was being said. "You came to check on me because I claimed that your were closer to me than anyone, which meant that you were obligated to act on the human understanding of what that meant because… that would correlate with _my_ 'logic.'"

"Well yes," Spock replied without even the slightest of hesitations, which didn't particularly help Jim any. Instead, he felt a somewhat irritating ball of anger start to form in the center of his chest.

"So you don't actually _want_ to be here," Jim determined somewhat sourly.

It was Spock's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Well that is completely inaccurate," he stated simply. "Captain, I would not be here if I did not want to be." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, Jim's irate feelings dissipating as quickly as they'd come with those few simple, _logical_, words. "You are my friend Jim. In that sense, I will gladly act in the expected fashion of such a position."

Jim almost laughed at the way he said it, as if Spock's "intimate" (as far as vulcan standards) relationship with his captain was some kind of rank. He took it as seriously as he did his Commander position, a fact that Jim wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted by.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about," Jim assured as he turned away, eyes dropping from Spock's form. "Nothing ails me that won't be better by morning, at which time I will once again take control of my ship and crew." He was lying of course, about getting better so quickly. But he was very adept at lying, his charming persona and explorative job calling for it. That he was doing so concerning Spock did unnerve him, but what would his Second even say if he was honest?

Something logical no doubt.

Spock didn't respond at first, which did cause Jim to glance quickly over his shoulder at him. To most, the commander appeared cold and unfeeling, but since they'd begun their service together some three years prior, Jim had made not merely an effort, but a goal to understand Spock to the fullest extent that he could. He'd watched him, analyzed him, and begun to note small differences in his expression that a stranger would never see.

It was because of his extensive knowledge that he could now label Spock as thoughtful, his eyebrows twitching only slightly closer together. That, however, was the closest Jim could get to reading him despite his efforts. He could easily label the vague definition of what crossed his Second's face, but contemplating his actual thought process? He couldn't even begin to fathom it, a fact that drove him to extremely heightened feelings of irritation.

"Captain, I must disagree," Spock finally decided, Jim sighing as he turned away from his friend once again. "If the human logic that I base my judgments on holds merit, which, due to my research into terran behavior," and McCoy, "I am certain it does, then there is an eighty-three-point-seven percent chance that your ailments will not be alleviated after proper bed rest. I can only conclude that rigorous amounts of treatment are necessary."

"Spock, I think you're failing to understand human logic," Jim decided, trying not to sound overly exhausted. Sometimes he was extremely jealous of his Second's stamina. "Probably because, as you've said before, humans are actually quite illogical."

"Yes, at least in accordance to the logic vulcan exhibit as well as the logic accepted most formally by Starfleet. However, to your unbalanced human brain," Jim scoffed, "I can only assume that you are ingrained to accept your irrational thoughts as something akin to logical normalcy. And because I am your friend, I must accept this fault in my attempts to help you." Jim knew that Spock didn't mean to intentionally insult him, he was just making comparisons, but it didn't change how the hair on his neck bristled, or how inadequate such comments made him feel in the presence of his first officer.

"Spock, there is nothing you can do that will help me," Jim stated, wishing his tone had come out a little firmer. "I'll recover just as I always have. It may take a little longer, yes, but I will get through this. I've been through worse." Yet even as he voiced as much, he wondered who he was trying more to convince, Spock or himself.

"I do not doubt that Captain," Spock agreed. "But I have reason to believe that my assistance could hasten the progress of your recovery."

Wow, he really wasn't letting this go.

"There is nothing you can do Spock, I-"

"You have been known to belligerently disregard-"

"Please, Spock, I really-"

"-medical advice no matter how-"

"I don't want to-"

"-logical the reasoning behind prescribing-"

"Enough Spock!"

He hadn't meant to yell, but his nerves had snapped.

It wasn't unknown for him to raise his voice, especially when dealing with aggressive, otherworldly races, but generally he tried to keep himself in check around Spock. Very rarely had he needed to act so… loudly towards his first officer and he immediately regretted it, as he had the few times before when it had happened.

Spock had fallen silent, the upwards twitch of his eyebrows revealing to Jim, who had whipped around to face him now, that he too had been somewhat surprised by the outburst. Though he'd never admit it.

Jim closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to collect himself before his flicked his lashes upwards and caught Spock's stare again.

"I appreciate the sentiment Spock," he started gradually, again hoping he was hiding how unsteady he really was, "but I have no desire to speak with you about anything that happened today. I guarantee that your vulcan logic would not allow you to understand." Generally, he would have expected that his commander agree with him, as he'd willingly on many occasions admitted that human emotion eluded him, so he was bewildered when all that responded was silence.

Eyes narrowed, Jim watched as, quite quickly, an entirely new level of guarded barriers were built up around Spock's expression. He became colder, his dark eyes diverting from Jim's to stare somewhere at the wall. He was becoming totally empty, cold, and the change took the captain even further aback.

The only time he'd seen Spock demonstrate such a change was when he'd been not just offended, but hurt. And Jim knew that the vulcan was capable of feeling emotional pain. Some people seemed to forget that the race repressed their emotions to the utmost level, not that they didn't have them at all. Yes, they had an extremely high tolerance for offense, but Jim was able to see the small cracks in that visage. Like he had the day he'd accidentally called Spock a half-breed. Granted, it had been an insensitive android version of himself that had said it, but the fact that Spock had asked that he not say such things again had made it apparent he'd been hurt by the words.

And now he'd, again, said something that had triggered such a reaction from his Second.

"I can see why you would come to that conclusion Captain," Spock eventually started, his voice even stricter than usual and Jim felt his heart sink. "However, I will make quite clear that you cannot expertly gauge my understanding of anything." He paused. "I know I am not a prime candidate to help you despite what you expressed earlier today," how he was closer to Jim than anyone, "and if you desire it, I can request that one of the terran crew members come and assist you."

"Spock, that's not…" Jim felt guilt wash over him for his careless words. "That won't be necessary, I-"

"Then if I am of no use here, I will take my leave and return to the duties previously assigned me." Jim couldn't help thinking that this was Spock's way of saying he wanted to return to where he belonged, only in a snotty, childish way.

Of course that was absurd because vulcan's _never_ sounded as such.

"No Spock," Jim added hastily. "Please. Stay. What I said was poorly worded and I apologize. I hadn't intended to upset you."

"It is impossible for me to be upset Captain."

"Right, of course," Jim cleared his throat and suppressed an eye roll. "In any case, what I said didn't come out as I'd intended-"

"A common occurrence among humans."

"- and I wish to clarify," Jim ignored the interjection, though he was relieved to see that Spock's walls had been lowered to their _normal_ volume of incredibly high and thick. "When I said I didn't want to talk to you, I meant I didn't want to talk to anyone," a universal insult wasn't as bad as a personal one, "and when I said you wouldn't understand, well… well actually I did mean that one." He cast Spock a half-smirk. "You probably wouldn't understand."

Unlike previously, Spock didn't become offended again, so this could only lead Jim to believe that he'd been upset over being singled out, which was a very interesting variable to consider…

"I was under the impression that talking about that which emotionally bothered them was a common action among humans," Spock stated scientifically. "I have certainly witnesses such expressions many times before." Almost everyday in fact since humans made up the vast majority of the population on the Enterprise.

"Yes, well," Jim sighed for what felt like the billionth time, "I think you will find it interesting to know that most of what humans express on a daily basis is of no significant importance." Spock raised an eyebrow, as if to contradict his captain's evaluation of his understanding. He knew perfectly well that nearly everything human's said was of no significance. "When it comes to things of an… important nature, some of us are more apt to speak nothing of it if we can help it." Jim had plenty of feelings he had no immediate desire to voice, especially to Spock.

"I see," Spock replied slowly. "If it is… severely uncomfortable for you to voice your… feelings, then I am certainly not one to force you," as he refused to do the same everyday. "Is there any other kind of comfort I can bestow upon you? Physical perhaps?"

"Wh-" Jim almost choked. "_What_?!" He'd furrowed his eyebrows severely, staring at Spock with obvious amounts of suspicion and confusion. "Physical?"

"Yes," Spock nodded. "I have examined that humans garner a sense of comfort from physically touching each other." Jim nearly choked again, but stopped and reminded himself that he wasn't a pre-pubescent child anymore. "Do you desire this stimulation from me?"

"Uh…" Jim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, blood rushing to his face. He tried to gulp back his blushing, but supposed he was failing and instead turned away, hiding. "That… isn't necessary either Commander." Jim wasn't sure whether to be more flustered over the fact that Spock wanted to stimulate him physically or that the prospect had been brought up at all. Generally, Spock wasn't one to encourage touching of any sort. Yes, Jim slapped him around occasionally, bumped him, nudged him…

But he'd never… _stimulated_ him…

"You are making this very difficult for me Captain," Spock stated, his tone only slightly flatter.

"I'm sorry Spock," Jim closed his eyes again as he grasped the back of his desk chair, back still facing his commander. "I'm not used to discussing my own personal issues." He was the Captain; it was his duty to be collected and ready to lead. If he had issues of his own to deal with, no one was supposed to catch a glimpse of them.

"There is no need to apologize Captain," Spock replied, hands clasped behind his back. "If you are truly that determined to reject my efforts to help you, then continuing to attempt would be illogical." He didn't say it as if he were offended, only factually. Yet, as always, Jim read further into his words and frowned. "I will return to my responsibilities now, if there is nothing I can assist you with."

Jim sighed, aware that Spock was giving him one more chance to change his mind. Yet, despite how he loathed snubbing his commander, he just couldn't discuss what was bothering him. With no one, especially the vulcan before him. He just… It wouldn't be appropriate…

"No Spock, there's nothing," he replied stiffly, turning to face his Second again. "You should… probably go." Eyes dropping, Jim pursed his lips, the silence in the room suddenly ringing louder than any part of their conversation.

At first, Spock made no move to leave, causing Jim to flick his eye back up to him. But this subtle movement seemed to spur the vulcan onward and, as he'd done less than an hour before, he turned and left his captain, the doors sliding open to allow him passage.

And as he left, Jim felt his heart squeeze inside his chest, irrational fear dropping into his gut. Images of his dreams, of watching Spock leave him behind, abruptly assaulted him and for a moment he nearly stepped forward to stop him out of panic, to call him back.

But he reeled himself in as the doors slid shut, his hand outstretched as his heart pounded anxiously inside his chest.

**oOo**

They would be at the nearest starbase in approximately five hours and thirty-three minutes.

Feet taking him swiftly ahead, Spock focused his attention on his destination. He was, once again, headed to his captain's quarters. It'd been nearly seven hours and seven minutes this time however, and he was headed there not on personal matters, but on professional.

After the initial report had been delivered by the captain concerning the most recent happenings upon the Enterprise, Spock had been contacted by Starfleet directly, Command inquiring into Captain Kirk's condition and desiring to speak with him. Spock had been forced to explain that he was currently recovering. Starfleet had been insistent upon speaking with him however, so that was why Spock was now hastening to his room. Command waited on the line, and probably not too patiently.

Reaching his door, Spock was about to inquire into entering, no doubt interrupting whatever rest the captain had managed to capture. He sensed the smallest bit of bitterness begin to crawl across his skin and he quickly stomped it out. Command always held precedence.

About to buzz in, he halted his advances just before doing so, his ears twitching as he listened. Vulcan hearing was far greater than human, allowing him to make out noise echoing from on the other side of the door. The interior of the Enterprise had been designed by humans, therefore the sound barrier had be intended for them. Yes, his ability to listen in on the captains chambers was limited, impossible for humans, but he could still hear the slightest whisper and rustle from inside.

His brows knitted together ever so slightly.

_"Spock! Spock, come back! Please come back!"_

The captain's voice.

Arm lowering, Spock considered the situation as he continued to listen to the stifled calling of his name. Logically, the captain would have no reason to be calling on him in such a way, as no one aside from himself could hear him, and he had to be standing just outside the door to do so. Therefore, Spock easily came to the conclusion that the captain must be sleeping. Dreaming.

Buzzing in on him now could potentially disrupt the internal visions he was now indulged in, resulting in abrupt shock. It was safer to wake him more subtly, with lower tones.

Reaching up, Spock initiated the manual override for the door, bypassing the buzzer.

"_Voice Verification Required._" The computer spouted out robotically, Spock expecting this reaction.

"Commander Spock requesting entrance."

"_Denied,_" the computer replied. "_Voice Verification Required._"

"Commander Spock overriding verification of Kirk, James T." Spock made perfectly clear. "Initiating second entry code, confirmed by Kirk, James T. upon alternative."

"_Register Open. Voice Verification Required_."

"Commander Spock," he repeated, perfectly patient about the slow allowance. He'd been through the steps with the captain before, therefore knew what to expect.

"_Permission Granted to Commander Spock, Substitute Entry One of One. Please State Previously Determined Entry Code._"

"Entry code 2264-2254-JSE-1701."

"_Entry Code Correct. Access Granted_."

Within the moment, the doors slid seamlessly open and Spock stepped through. Behind him, they closed once again, locking as soon as they made contact. With the lights from the hall no longer available, he found himself in near gloom. To his right, upon the captain's desk, a dim light emanated a warm red glow, but besides that, darkness.

Despite having his vision hindered however, Spock was easily able to locate Jim's position not by sight, but by the constant exclamation of his voice. Now, without the walls and sound barrier between them, it became quite apparent how unconsciously distraught he was.

"Spock, I'm begging you, please stay," he was saying, his tone torn and pained. "Don't walk out that door. Please, _please_!" Stepping through the first area of the room, Spock quietly approached the bed, his vision having adjusted to the dark as he stared down at his captain.

He was indeed asleep, his head thrashing to the side as a grimace graced his features. His breathing was hectic and labored, sweat dripping across his skin and leaving salty streaks down his cheeks. The sheets covering his body were damp, as if he'd been suffering these ailing dreams for some time.

No, not dreams – _nightmares_.

Lips pursing ever so slightly, Spock reached forward, gentle in his approach. Hopefully, if he was slow to wake him, he could avoid any undo shock.

Fingertips brushing Jim's arm, he was abruptly assaulted by blinding light.

"Don't leave me!" _Eyes widening, Spock found himself rushing forward, not of his own accord, and reaching out to grab desperately at the shirtsleeve of another figure. And as the vision came into focus, he was glancing up, his lungs out of breath as he spoke._ "You can't leave me. Everyone else left, but I know you won't. You're my best friend, my-"

"Enough," _a single word in a voice Spock recognized. _"Your attachment is illogical." _His _own_ voice._ "And my staying with you is beyond so." _The figure never turned, but he could see the outline of pointed ears surrounded in sharply cut black hair._ "I have been promoted to Captain of the Enterprise. Ignoring that elevation would be irrational when considering my career."

_This wasn't real. It wasn't possible. The logic didn't stand. _

"Don't leave me, I-l-"

_He had no right to be here. _

Jolting his hand backwards, Spock was actually forced to suck in a deep breath of shock and surprise as he stumbled backwards away from Jim's bed. Breathing deep, he brought his hand in front of his face, staring at it before focusing once again on the sleeping captain.

How had that happened?

Closing his eyes, Spock mentally ran through every facet of his control, every nook and cranny of his barriers and shields. Never did he drop them, not even in the vulnerable state of sleep, therefore no one should be able to invade his mind unless invited. And he should be fully capable of touching other organisms without impeding upon theirs.

He'd had no desire to see Jim's dreams. He shouldn't have.

Shouldn't have been possible.

"Don't, I need you Spock, please…"

Snapping his eyes open once more, he lowered his hand and quickly approached the bed again. Gone from his expression was his surprise, stoic emptiness balanced there instead. But because of the previous encounter, he dared not reach out to Jim. Instead, hands unconsciously balling into fists at his sides, he tried another tactic.

"Captain," he said quietly, "Captain, wake up." There was no response, though Jim's thrashing did halt and his voice dwindled to a rasping beg. "Captain, you need to wake up," Spock continued, his voice rising slightly.

Still he failed to rouse him.

And as Spock paused for a moment to consider further action, the momentary silence seemed to have a rather negative effect on Jim. His voice rose again, his calling of "Spock" becoming something of a defeated whimper.

Needless to say, it was a very unusual tone for the captain to exhibit and it struck a cord through Spock's control, unnerving him. He frowned, his eyes darting across Jim's face as he leaned a little closer.

"Captain, I'm here," he tried to assure. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving you."

"Spock, _Spock_…"

"Here Captain, right beside you." He still didn't dare reach forth and touch him. "I am here Jim. Now wake up."

And, finally, he did.

Eyes fluttering open, Jim was still breathing hard as he stared to the side, taking a moment to realize that he was in his quarters aboard the Enterprise as opposed to his nightmare. Twitchingly, his gaze flicked up to Spock, who was leaning back and staring down at him with what he thought was a typical impassive expression.

But Jim saw the worried crease to his brow, the tightness of his jaw.

The searching in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Jim asked defensively, slowly sitting up. He tried to quell his shaking, ease his way into the pose, but he was sure he was failing if Spock's intent stare said anything. "Lights," he issued quickly and the whole room was flooded with warm glowing brightness.

"I came to get you Captain," Spock explained immediately. "Starfleet have contacted us and wish to speak with you. They are hailing us as we speak." Jim's eyes widened only slightly further as he threw his legs over the side of is bed and tossed his sheet aside. Spock, who hadn't been expecting such hasty actions, raised his eyebrows when he noticed the captain was wearing only underwear and turned away, focusing on a distant part of the wall.

"Starfleet? Now?" Jim sounded much more like himself, though the evidence of his nightmare still lay in the salt of his sweat, in the trembling of his skin. "What could they possibly want?" Bypassing Spock, he quickly located his black pants, black undershirt, and standard gold uniform before slipping them on.

"They were inquiring into your condition and took an interest in speaking to you personally on the matter," Spock explained, his reason visibly causing Jim to pause in slipping his shirt over his head. And when he commenced once again, he was slower.

"My _condition_?" he stated, voice lowering slightly. Spock heard him take a deep breath as he straightened the gold fabric, his head turning over his shoulder to get a look at his commander.

"How did you get in here Spock?"

"I overrode the security system," he explained easily, "using the code you gave me previously." The personal password that Jim had entrusted Spock with; the only other person that could enter his quarters without permission.

"Why didn't you simply buzz in?" Jim asked as he turned fully, grabbing his boots from the floor as he did. He sat down on the bed to put them on, though the majority of his attention was still on Spock and what he'd say next.

"I was going to," Spock continued, "but, as you know, vulcan have superior hearing to humans and I was able to make out your voice through the door. I realized that you must have been dreaming so I overrode security in an effort to avoid shocking you when I woke you."

"I… see…" Jim replied quietly, gulping as he pulled his boots over his pants. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat a moment later and stood. "Well, I appreciate your consideration." Spock's eyebrows rose above his head. "In any case, let us be off. I have an unfortunate date with Command."

"Sir, I fail to see how the word 'date' is being used in this situation. Generally it is associated with the actual number placed within the galactic calendar. And on Earth it refers to a time when two humans, who are se-"

"Come on Spock, let's not waste time," Jim clarified as he headed out the door, which opened when he commanded the lock free. Head cocked only slightly to the side, Spock dropped the subject and followed silently behind.

Quick to make their way through the halls, Spock shortly explained that he'd taken the hail from Starfleet in one of the briefing rooms and that Dr. McCoy had been asked to attend as well. Jim didn't comment on this, instead preferring to silently stiffen as he rounded a corner.

Within but a few minuets, they'd reached the correct room, the doors opening to let them in.

Bones sat at the end of the table, glancing up as they entered. His typical air of irritation was there as well as an anxious kind of annoyance, which wasn't exactly promising as far as Jim was concerned. And beside him, propped up on a table, was a single screen, a face Jim didn't recognize flashing back at him.

"Good day Captain Kirk, Commander Spock again," the man stated, apparently recognizing both the newcomers as they sat down at the table as well. "I'm Admiral Shveenen. I'm currently stationed at Starbase E57, the one you're headed to, and have been therefore issued to inquire into you condition after your most recent… escapade Captain Kirk." He was an older man, his head balding aside from two rather comical tufts on either side. His lips seemed to be creased into a permanent frown, making him appear as the no-nonsense type.

"My condition?" Jim cast the man one of his dazzling smiles. "My condition is fine. Records will show that I've been through much worse and weathered it all well enough to continue with harder mission afterwards." He nodded once, giving off the air of total ease.

"Even so," Admiral Shveenen cleared his throat. "Command is worried about your psychological state. The transference of a consciousness from one body to another has never been completed before," at least, not within human culture, and not recently. "It is reasonable that we be concerned."

"I assure you Admiral, there is nothing to be concerned about," Jim laughed lightly as he leaned back in his seat. "I feel fine. Better than fine really. There were no lasting effects." He refused to look at the other men sitting around him, afraid their expressions would shatter his resolve (which no doubt spoke volumes about his _actual_ condition).

"Despite your optimistic opinion Captain, I would still rather discuss the issue with your doctor," Shveenen's eyes darted to McCoy, who raised his eyebrows but never lost his air of irritation. "As the chief physician aboard the Enterprise, I want your opinion from your own lips Dr. McCoy, not from the report written by your captain."

Jim ignored the urge to frown.

"Well," McCoy considered the question for a moment, "there's nothing of any particular interest to report." Jim finally glanced over at him. "Captain Kirk's tests all came back exceeding expectations, which is a regular for him. His physical condition as well as his mental levels all came back strikingly positive, which is actually quite the phenomenon considering what he went through." Jim wasn't used to hearing such praise from his doctor. It made him paranoid.

"Yes, that's all well and good," the Admiral waved them off. "I got that much from the results that were sent in the report. I want further clarification on his mental response, not his brain levels." Bones cast a somewhat skeptical look at Jim and Spock both before focusing again on the screen.

"Well, no offense Admiral, but I'm a doctor, not a psychologist. I'm hardly at liberty to be making judgments on the Captain's mental stability." Despite the fact that he did so quite willingly on a regular basis, especially when they were about to enter into a particularly dangerous situation.

This response didn't seem to please the admiral however, which probably didn't bode well.

"If that's the case, then I think it necessary to schedule a FW Exam when you arrive at Starbase." Jim's eyes popped open then, both him and McCoy gaping at the suggestion.

"An FW- Wha-" Jim scoffed. "But those take weeks, _months_ sometimes." An FW Exam was the strictest kind of exam any ranked member of Starfleet could get. It required being measured during all kinds of exertion, tons of mental tests, balanced and stress inducing activities, and sleep monitoring. It was, rather, the test that attempted to rule out all factors of insanity whilst pushing the patient to just prior the state itself. Everything Jim had ever learned, ever experienced, they'd attempt to mimic and measure his reactions.

It was the easiest way to get labeled unfit for duty and discharged from his current position.

"That hardly seems necessary," McCoy argued in Jim's defense. "As has been made clear, Jim's been through much worse and never been unable to properly recover. An FW Exam seems a little extreme…" Bones laughed a little, but it came off as forced and awkward, which it was.

"Well Doctor, it's difficult for me to gauge how to act if no one is giving me answers." Answers? Jim had to hold back scoffing in disgust. To him, it sounded like this guy _wanted_ something to be wrong with him, and was willing to do anything to prove it. "Like I said, this particular incident has never occurred before in any similar form, so it is troubling to those of us looking in on the situation."

"Perhaps, then, a more logical opinion on the matter would help clarify," Spock interjected, his tone as level as ever. Yet as he spoke up, Jim whipped around to look at him, horror attempting to leak out onto his face but failing to breach his charming mask. Spock had come in on him while he was dreaming, was already under the impression that there was something wrong.

And vulcans didn't lie.

"I'd appreciate that Commander Spock," Admiral Shveenen nodded to him through the screen.

"As has already been established, the Captain has been through far more detrimental than what most recently occurred. Despite the newness of the situation, Captain Kirk is in prime health and is not suffering any obvious effects. To subjugate him to a timely and rather painful exam hardly seems logical." The Admiral didn't look convinced. "However, I can understand the concern, so perhaps instead of an FW Exam, Starfleet grant him some shore leave to recover if he needs to before having him go through a regulation psych test." Which still required a lot of monitoring and people watching you in your sleep. It only took a few days however instead of weeks. "That should give you the answers you need. If the captain does show signs of duress even after recuperating, then perhaps the FW Exam would be necessary."

"So you're saying we should give Captain Kirk a vacation to relieve his stress before deciding how mentally sound he is?" the admiral summarized. Jim, who had sat back in his seat, felt oddly like they'd forgotten he was in the room. "That hardly seems 'logical.' When on duty, captains don't have time to relax before acting."

"I am merely suggesting that if Captain Kirk is suffering because of what has just happened, testing him now will not grant you accurate results concerning his ability to command the Enterprise. None could possibly know how this transfer affected the captain, but if it has left a lasting effect, that will be apparent whether he takes shore leave or not. However, if it is a temporary side effect, then an immediate test could deliver results that may not be relevant a few days afterwards."

"So in other words," the admiral sighed, seeming tired of the conversation, "you don't want to sully your captain's good name too soon." Again, Jim was forced to consider that this man didn't seem particularly fond of him.

"I am merely suggesting that we consider all the variables before jumping to conclusions," Spock explained. "As of yet, the captain has done nothing to justify him being unable to command the Enterprise." He hadn't even been leading his ship to begin with. "Until that time comes, I am not apt to cast premature judgment."

"And what if your lack of action allows Captain Kirk to place him and his crew members in danger before anything can be done? Certainly catching the threat before it happens is the logical thing to do?"

"Logic holds many sides Admiral," Spock replied. "Risking Captain Kirk's reputation as one of the leading Captains in Starfleet is illogical. If he is suffering temporary effects, then testing him now will no doubt accomplish just that. However, give him shore leave and it will be impossible for him to endanger anyone aboard the Enterprise and you will still be able to examine him to the fullest extent once it is over. To me, that is the rational path to take. It benefits all parties yet causes no harm to any."

Jim glanced over at Spock, who was as passive as ever, and felt his heart well in his chest. Despite how Spock was arguing logically, it was apparent that he was also attempting to protect his captain. A flattering notion to be sure.

"And what if there is a consequence that arises between now and the termination of his shore leave, and because we didn't act, we fail to prevent what could have been stopped? By not examining Captain Kirk now, we could very well be damning him from the beginning." The admiral sniffed, apparently under the impression that he was somehow going to out-logic a vulcan.

"As you are aware Admiral, my people are very well versed in impediments of the mind. As Captain Kirk is physically sound, there is hardly a threat there, and if it is his mental capacity that worries you, I assure you that no mental illness will take him before we, Starfleet, are able to treat it. I certainly don't doubt the medical professionals at our disposal." He paused for a moment. "If it would further reassure you Admiral, I would be willing to accompany the captain on his shore leave and report how he behaves. As his commander, I have the luxury of being familiar with his behavior, but as a vulcan, you have the comfort of knowing my reports will be factual and thorough. If anything out of the ordinary were to arise, I would certainly notice."

The admiral pursed his lips, irritation finally flashing across his expression. "You seem awfully opposed to the idea of the FW Exam Mister Spock. _Unusually_ opposed actually." Jim glanced over at Bones, who caught his eye, suspicious unease gracing their expressions.

"Hardly Admiral," Spock replied smoothly. "As past results show, those who take the FW Exam have a ninety-one-point-two-four percent risk of failure. In sixty-three-point-five percent of the cases, the patient had been showing previous signs of instability. This does put the odds in the Captain's favor since he has displayed no signs of such," not publicly or outwardly anyway, which was Spock's point, "but despite seventy-nine-point-one-four percent of those that failed recovering from their ails afterwards, only one-point-three were ever able to reclaim their previous rank, and none have ever been promoted further. These facts are what I base my logic on. The FW Exam, though thorough and revealing, would be put on the Captain's permanent record. Rushing into such an action benefits no one and puts the Captain's standing at considerable risk, as far as the evidence shows." He wasn't saying it out loud, that the FW was pretty much a one-way ticket out of Starfleet, but the point had been accented sufficiently.

Jim wasn't blind enough to believe there was no corruption in Starfleet. The FW Exam was one of the main tools that could be used by those with poor intentions. That it had been brought up at all drew his doubts, but he didn't understand why someone would want him gone or even who. As far as he was concerned, he'd done nothing but good for Starfleet. He'd made plenty of enemies, sure, yet this was coming from the inside.

Or perhaps he was jumping to conclusions?

The Admiral didn't reply immediately then, instead allowing his eyes to dart between the three. And after a few more seconds, he finally sighed and looked lastly to Spock.

"Your logic stands Mister Spock," he admitted and Jim held back saying "of course its does" and instead glanced to the tabletop. "Following the docking of the Enterprise at the base, you're to release your crew for two weeks of shore leave. That should be a sufficient amount of time?" He was asking Spock, who, after a short pause, nodded in agreement. "Upon the termination of your leave, I expect you in my office and back at the base, ready to be evaluated," now he was staring at Jim. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir," Jim nodded, his stare once again meeting the admiral's.

"Good," the older man again surveyed them in their entirety before leaning back. "I look forward to meeting you within the next five hours." Using that as his dismissal, his face was visible for only a moment longer before the screen went black, the room eerily silent as the three remaining occupants considered what they'd just heard.

And what they could from that point infer.

"Well he was a bucket of fun," Bones was the first to speak as he sat back, his frown even more prominent than usual. "Makes me that much more excited to get to Starbase and meet his glowing ass." Jim allowed a small chuckle to escape his tongue, his fingers pulling at his lips thoughtfully. Spock, who no doubt didn't understand McCoy's choice of words, furrowed his eyebrows slightly, but didn't comment.

"They certainly don't have much confidence in me, do they…?" Jim muttered, his eyebrows squishing closer and closer together. Yes, he did have to admit that what had happened with Janice had left him somewhat shaken out of his norm, but Starfleet's reaction didn't appear entirely typical either.

"Their ability to place confidence in your condition Captain is swayed by their ignorance," Spock stated, his comment drawing the eyes of both his companions. "They cannot possibly know what to expect of you as they have no experience to base their inferences on."

"What does that mean?" Bones asked harshly. "You sayin' you agree with how they were acting?"

"Contraire doctor, I am saying the exact opposite," Spock replied. "My logic was not only based on the statistics of the FW Exam, but my personal experience with the Captain." Jim raised his eyebrows. "I have witnessed him recuperate from many dire and stressful situations without fail. It is logical, based on his success rate, for me to presume that he will do so again. There is always a chance, of course, that failure could occur, but the odds are in the Captain's favor."

"Well that's a… nice way of putting it…" Bones begrudgingly accepted, his eyes rolling slightly.

"Thank you Spock," Jim nodded to him, appreciating beyond words what his commander had done and said only moments before. Had he been forced to go through the FW Exam upon arriving at Starebase, he may have stood a chance of failure. At least now he'd been bought some extra time to hopefully deal with the… side effects.

"No need to thank me," Spock replied. "To do so is illogical and unnecessary."

"I know, but thank you anyway," Jim smiled, having been expecting his friend's reaction to his polite words. Spock simply nodded the second time around, accepting Jim's irrational human behavior as he always did.

"Two weeks shore leave then huh?" Bones, despite that he brought them back around to the subject, didn't seem at all happy about it. Not that the good doctor was ever happy. "You think that's going to be enough time?" he was looking pointedly at Jim, completely serious.

"Enough time?" Jim cast his questioning friend a dazzling smile. "I hardly know what you mean Bones. Two weeks is more than enough time for just about anything." He was avoiding the true subject, a fact both Bones and Spock realized without a doubt. He wasn't lying, but he certainly wasn't giving them any assurance on his condition either. "And now that we have our new prerogatives," Jim rose to his feet, "I think it's time to alert the rest of the crew. They'll no doubt be thrilled by the abrupt vacation."

Without meeting the eyes of either of his senior officers, Jim left the briefing room.

And as he did, Bones glanced over at Spock, who met his gaze equally.

**oooooooooooooooooo**

**A/N:** Due to the confusion over this story, I've taken down the two other chapters and re-writing what needs to be in order to fit them into the TOS catagory. It shouldn't change a whole lot, some characterization and attitudes, but it will make reading it much easier for everyone, lol.

I hope you enjoyed and please R&R ^-^


	2. Chapter 2: A Mutual Interpretation

**The Psychology of You**

_Chapter 2: A "Mutual" Interpretation_

"Well that was highly unpleasant," Jim muttered as he, Spock, and Bones stepped up into the turbolift. Upon entering, Jim punched in the numbers for the guest quarters, the sour mood causing him to frown.

"Admiral Shveenen certainly acted as if we'd invited ourselves," McCoy stated rather spitefully, his visage one to match his captains. "Pompous bastard, barely had two words to say after all that garbage he spouted five hours ago." Bones shook his head, his shoulders hunching as the lift carried them to their destination.

"He _was_ lacking in interest compared to previous," Spock agreed. "When he contacted us last, he had been rather adamant concerning the Captain's condition, yet his attitude currently would seem to contradict the notion." The commander's eyebrows had risen slightly, the logic of the situation eluding him.

"That's 'cause he didn't get what he wanted," McCoy started as the turbolift began to slow. "He wanted to test Jim for insanity and we didn't let him. So until he can get what he wants, in _two weeks_," he accented the short amount of time, "he's goin' to give us the cold shoulder."

"You seem to assume he's determined my condition before actually giving me the test," Jim replied as the doors to the lift opened and they stepped out into the brightly lit corridor. All around them, the bustling of Starfleet employees flurried past, most too busy to pay the high ranking officers any respect or mind. A fact over which the three were rather grateful.

"Was it that obvious?" McCoy asked sarcastically. "There's somethin' goin' on here Jim, behind the scenes. Someone's out to get you. Well, out to get you demoted at least. I don't know if Shveenen is behind it or if someone's pulling his strings, but I suppose it really doesn't matter in the end."

"The doctor is quite correct Captain," Spock agreed, the two on the same page for once. "If some of the higher ranking individuals of Starfleet are attempting to sabotage you, this brings your odds of passing any psych evaluation down considerably."

"Yes, I realize," Jim sighed. "And Spock, we're on shore leave now, as you are fully aware. In the spirit of that understanding, I'm no longer your captain, so please call me Jim."

"You are always the captain Jim," Spock clarified, "even when off duty." Despite his objections, he didn't seems to have any qualms with the demand made of him, which caused Jim to smile ever so slightly, charm oozing from between his lips even without any effort.

"Yeah, and you two are stuck together for a whole two weeks," McCoy scoffed. "Glad I'm not goin' with you. I don't think I could stand that pointy-eared know-it-all twenty-four seven." Spock quirked his eyebrows, but didn't respond to the insult. "I'll be here, thank you, enjoying my leave in peace."

"Well, if your definition of peace is time without us Bones, I'm afraid you're out of luck," Jim clarified. "I have no intention of leaving the Starbase during my leave, which means we'll probably be seeing each other in one way or another." Together, they made their way through the corridors to the luxurious rooms they'd been assigned upon arrival.

"Really?" McCoy questioned, his eyes darting to Spock skeptically before going back to Jim. "And why have you decided to spend this extended shore leave out in the middle of space when you could be nearly anywhere else?" Obviously, the doctor had been expecting a rather different response.

"I could ask you the same thing," Jim countered, his smile still creasing his face.

"Where would I go?" McCoy asked with a rather sharp gestured shrug. "Aside from the Enterprise, I have nothin' to go back to." All he had was his daughter, but she was off experiencing her own adventures, hardly having time for her estranged father. "I'm just as… 'happy' here as anywhere else. But you've got family Jim, parents I'm sure you haven't seen in quite some time."

"That's true," the captain nodded. "But I think my time would be best served here, attempting to figure out why our dear admiral is determined to kick me out of the way." He'd come to this conclusion as soon as he'd been issued shore leave. He didn't believe in no-win scenarios, so he was going to make sure he started investigating this one as soon as possible.

"I… don't think that's a good idea…" McCoy offered somewhat hesitantly, his eyes again flashing to Spock and back again. "I think you should leave, enjoy your break while you have it." Jim glanced up at his older friend, his eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

"Are you trying to get rid of me as well?" he asked, his tone bristling with irritation.

"Actually, the doctor and I have discussed this quite logically," Spock interjected, his claim taking Jim by surprise. Bones and Spock never discussed anything, let alone in a logical manner. "We do not believe it is safe here for you and came to the unanimous conclusion that you should get off the Starbase as soon as possible."

"Not safe?" Jim was obviously offended by the idea, the thought of it causing him to stop dead in his tracks. The other two, who hadn't been expecting the standstill, were forced to pause a little ways ahead of him and turn. "What do you mean? I've been in far more danger than this and-"

"We don't mean physical safety Jim," McCoy interrupted, his unease about the subject apparent in every crease of his face. "If anyone is determined to somehow remove you from your post, then there's reason to believe they'll take advantage of your presence to gather evidence. Until you're absolutely positive you're… in perfect condition, you should be somewhere away from all this." Away from prying eyes.

"I… see…" Jim replied, understanding perfectly well what his physician was saying. Whether he'd inferred it himself or Spock had relayed it to him, Bones knew Jim was dealing with the aftermath of Janice. He wasn't totally over the incident, so until he was, he'd be better off where no one could witness his weakness.

"Getting away can only help Jim," McCoy offered quietly, trying to sound reassuring. "It's not that long, and while you're gone, Scotty and I'll look in on the situation. Try to gather info on the admiral and who works with him. If we find anything interesting, we'll make sure to send it your way."

There was silence then, Jim contemplating their words. Eventually he was forced to sigh and give in however, aware that if he didn't do as advised, Spock could no doubt force him aboard a shuttle anyway. He couldn't very well fight off the strength of a vulcan.

"I see your point," Jim unwillingly agreed. "Where is it we're headed then Spock?" he began walking again, a downed attitude about him. It was difficult for him to surrender his own safety to the care of his crew and friends. He was usually the one calling the shots and protecting others. However, what they said was sound. In his current condition, whether he wanted to admit to it or not, he was probably better off somewhere away from Starfleet officials.

"Wherever you want to go," Spock replied simply, the three finally coming to an expected stop outside their captain's quarters. "So long as it is within the distance of our two-week leave of course. I have already reserved a runabout that is ready for departure." Jim nodded, his expression becoming contemplative as he pulled his bottom lip between his fingers.

"Well _you're_ stuck with me Spock," he explained. "Where is it you'd like to go?" His commander's eyebrows rose a considerable amount then, a grin creasing Jim's lips as he watched his Second attempt to digest the query.

"I have no particular desire to be anywhere," he clarified, a statement that Jim was quite positive rang not of lies, but not entirely of truth either. "This shore leave was issued on your behalf, so I will accompany you wherever it is you warrant we go."

"In that case…" Jim dropped his hands to his hips. "Bones, how far are we from 40 Eridani A?" He knew Spock was perfectly aware of the distance, but had asked his other companion in an effort to tease the vulcan, who would no doubt object that such a thing were even possible.

"Oh, I'd say," Bones glanced up at the ceiling in mock thoughtfulness, "about a day and a half. That is, if you rush a little, which you should because spending your leave aboard a runabout his _highly_ illogical. And no fun." McCoy was ginning now, Jim mimicking his expression.

"Yes, I do believe you're right," Jim agreed, Spock's lips pursing. "I know there's a rather interesting, civilized planet orbiting that particular star, one I've only ever had the chance to visit once. I do feel that such a fact is a huge oversight on my part."

"Hardly," Spock interjected. "Vulcan does not generally welcome outsiders without a viable reason." Were it not for the fact that he was supposedly emotionless, Jim would almost consider Spock's tone irritated. "A visit during your shore leave is quite out of the question."

"Really?" Jim raised his eyebrows skeptically, accepting the challenge. "Even if I'm being accompanied by ambassador Sarek's son?" Spock's lips tightened. "I find it difficult to believe that Vulcan wouldn't allow one of their own a visit."

"Hardly logical," Bones added.

"Going down accompanied by a human without a feasible purpose would be reason to reject entry," his voice truly had grown sharper, even if he hadn't realized it. "I suggest you come up with a new destination _Captain_." He cast one last severe look at Jim before turning swiftly on his heel and marching down the hall. Within moments, he'd vanished inside his own quarters.

"Wow, really pushed his buttons," McCoy chuckled lightly.

"Only because I know he actually _does_ want to visit his family," Jim replied, his humor equal to Bones. "It would appear that appealing to his internal desires jeopardizes his ability to control his emotions, which probably irks him considerably." And Jim enjoyed that quite a bit more than he should.

"So you're saying that the opportunity for him to get what he wants makes him angry?" Bones shook his head. "You know, for spoutin' about logic constantly, he certainly doesn't make much sense some of the time." Bones crossed his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath. "I hope you can enjoy your vacation with him, wherever you decide to go. I know I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Jim's grin seemed to be screwed onto his face. Despite the circumstances of his shore leave, he was actually quite excited, be it because of the vacation itself or who he was going with. Either way, he hadn't given it much thought. "Spock isn't all that bad."

"Again, I'm glad I'm stayin' here," Bones stubbornly defended. "I'd rather investigate what's goin' on with Starfleet than have the logical time of my life, thank you very much."

"Well, be subtle," Jim's amusement faded. "If there _is_ something going on, the last thing we need is someone realizing that we're onto them." Bones was nodding even before his captain had finished. "And be… discreet in what you say to Scotty, or whoever you get involved with this," his voice had lowered considerably. "I trust who you trust, all of our friends, but let's not say more than necessary about the situation."

"Of course Jim," the doctor assured his understanding, his expression becoming somber. Though the captain had yet to admit to suffering side effects because of Janice, they both knew he was and would prefer such details remain his own. The crew could be privy to how Starfleet was acting, but they didn't need to know there was potential for truth in the accusations.

"I suppose then," Jim took a deep breath, "that as soon as I'm ready, Spock will ensure our departure," wherever it was they ended up going. "If that's the case, this is goodbye." Bones wasn't one for farewells of any sort, so Jim simply placed his hand on the doctor's shoulder, saying more with the simple gesture than any words could.

"For two weeks," Bones nodded. "Until then, be safe Captain. I certainly won't be there to patch you up."

"Understood," Jim laughed, his smile again returning. They stared at each other for a moment longer then before, hand falling back to his side, Jim turned away and headed towards his room. Behind him, he heard Leonard begin to walk away as well, his footsteps eventually silenced as the automatic doors slid closed at the captain's back.

Once inside, Jim paused, only momentarily looking around. The state of his room was hardly relevant if he was headed out as soon as possible. Locating the things he'd specified be brought along - they'd been beamed down earlier - he set his feet in motion once again. Picking up the case of clothing from beside the bed, he dropped it down on the sheets before manually flicking the locks.

He was on vacation, therefore had left all of his uniforms back on the ship, minus what he was currently donning. Rather, he'd instead brought along what little casual wear he possessed. It was hardly enough to sustain him for two weeks he realized with a frown. He'd have to go shopping, or he supposed his could replicate what he did have a few times over.

The thought wasn't exactly appealing however. Jim was a very extroverted individual. He enjoyed the social graces of society and culture. Wherever he ended up going, he'd no doubt indulge in the splendor it had to offer. He'd buy clothes then, perhaps come back with a souvenir worth remembering.

Pulling out a pair of well-worn jeans, faded from his days prior to Starfleet, he removed his boots and slacks before slipping them on. Smiling, he was happy to note that they still fit perfectly. He then replaced his Starfleet top with a gold hued t-shirt (he'd _always_ been privy to the color) before grabbing his brown leather jacket and scuffed brown boots. Slipping all three articles on, he surveyed himself in a mirror across the room, ran his hand through his hair, and determined himself fit for leave.

Grabbing his suitcase, because he probably wouldn't be coming back to his room, he made his way back out into the hall and down towards Spock's quarters.

Spock.

He was stuck spending two weeks with his vulcan commander, a fact that sent a thrill through his whole body. Of course, he was quickly able to push back the unfortunate side-effect thinking of Spock procured. He'd been doing so for nearly two years, rejecting the feelings he'd formed for his first officer. He was happy having Spock as friend, a dear one, and would never ask for anything more.

The pitfalls of falling for a vulcan.

But he was content, or so he told himself, so instead he looked forward to the trip.

The trip with _Spock_.

He buzzed in on his friend's quarters and, almost immediately, was hailed in from the other side. The door opened and he stepped through, spotting Spock sitting before a desk on the far side of the room. Having been expecting him, the commander didn't even look up as he entered, engrossed in punching something into the tablet in his hands. No, it wasn't a PADD, which were registered mainly with Starfleet and for formal use, but it did give Jim the impression that Spock didn't quite know how to leave work behind.

Not that _he_ did either.

"So," Jim dropped his suitcase to the floor with a loud thump as he waltzed his way across the room. He spun as he reached Spock, easily landing with the back of his thighs propped up against the desk before crossing his arms over his chest. "When do we leave for Vulcan?"

This finally drew Spock's attention, who glanced up at Jim (once again smiling) with one of his eyebrows raised a considerable amount. Like his captain, he'd removed his uniform and replaced it with typical vulcan attire. His clothes were a dark midnight blue, consisting of all matching parts. The pants were plain and tucked into his boots much like his Starfleet attire did, but the top (Jim didn't know if it was a shirt or jacket, or some kind of poncho? Yet such a term hardly seemed capable of describing the grace of the piece) was large and spacious. It buttoned up the front, all the way to his neck where the collar strapped around his throat. It hung from his shoulders with flowing integrity, the fabric reaching down to his wrists. And when he opened his arms, the top would no doubt expand like wings. Beneath, he must have worn another shirt, long sleeved, that Jim could see covering the tops of his hands.

The fabric was slightly decorated, silver strips and trim apparent, but was otherwise empty. Yet, somehow, it was still incredibly flattering.

"We do not," Spock replied. "Choose another destination." He returned to his tablet, Jim watching him all the while. It was interesting really, seeing Spock outside his typical Starfleet attitude. Jim found it quite… _fascinating_.

"Oh come now Spock," Jim sighed. "Maybe the whole shore leave thing was initiated for me, but you're on vacation now too. Wouldn't you like to see your mother again?" He knew Amanda, Spock's mother, was a sensitive subject. Despite how Spock rejected the idea, he loved his mother very much and, in doing so, could only logically miss her.

"My desires are of no consequence," Spock stated, his fingers flurrying over the tablet. Peering down at it, Jim realized he was doing some sort of complicated equation. Concentrating, Jim was easily able to follow along, a fact that no doubt would come as a surprise to Spock. Yes, it was common knowledge that he'd tested at the academy at genius levels, but it seemed to be a fact that most forgot.

"Well I want to go to Vulcan," Jim shrugged, his stubborn attitude drawing Spock's eyes once again. He was examining his nails lazily however, pretending to ignore the look. "Your mother and I got on quite well actually, _I_ wouldn't mind visiting her, even if you don't want to." Spock's lips pursed ever so slightly.

"Jim, I do not object to Vulcan for some illogical personal reason," the commander explained. "I reject your proposition because I am quite certain that we will not be allowed entry into the atmosphere with you on board. Vulcans are very private, our customs and lifestyle secret to most. Only outsiders of an equally personal nature or importance are allowed entrance."

"Like your mother."

"Like my mother," Spock agreed. "You, however, hold none of those credentials." Jim frowned, feeling most insulted. Of course, he wasn't pretending to place himself in the same position as Amanda, he wasn't married to Spock, but that fact didn't make it any easier to swallow.

"I've been there before," Jim defended. "On your invitation. They let both Bones and I stay then." Spock obviously stiffened at the reference to his unfortunate pass with Pon Farr, the vulcan mating biology. It was a delicate subject as the host lost all control, a rather treacherous oversight as far as vulcans were concerned.

"That… was a particular situation which holds no ground for being repeated again," Spock explained, hiding his annoyance over the fact that Jim had brought up Pon Farr at all. "Using it as a reason now would be both insulting and degrading of your character in the eyes of my people."

"I know," Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid nor was I being serious," not that he could have expected Spock to realize such a thing. "I just don't want you to lose this opportunity to visit your family, it's not as though occasions like this present themselves everyday." He paused for only moment. "Besides, I've always been curious to see where you came from, how your were raised. Your prized logic and all that."

"Human curiosity is not justification enough," Spock replied. "Otherwise, we would not have any disagreements on the matter."

"I know," Jim's shoulders slumped, his voice echoing of exasperation. "Alright, alright, we can go somewhere else." Pushing himself up off the desk, he frowned. "Just… let me think about it a minute." Slumping over to the bed, he laid back across it, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

Watching him, noticing how the rejection had downed his attitude, Spock considered again his friend's request. Had he been one to sigh in defeat, he might have, but he wasn't, he was vulcan, so a simple tightening if his jaw would have to suffice.

"If it will please you," Spock drew Jim's eyes, "I will ask about the matter to Sarek," Jim's grin returned as if it had never left, "but I would still continue to consider other options as the odds are not in our favor."

"The logical thing to do," Jim replied as he turned back towards the ceiling, this time feeling more optimistic. Not that Spock could say the same thing. Returning to the thin tablet sitting on the desk before him, he poked at the thin device (much too fragile to be used on a Starship) until he was sending a transmission across the broad width of space to his home planet.

It didn't take long for the transmission to be received, his mother's face appearing on the screen.

"_Spock?!_" she exclaimed, Jim glancing over with curiously raised eyebrows as he silently listened. "_Oh Spock, I'm so happy to see you. It's been so long since your last transmission. Is everything alright?_" Her tone went from confused to ecstatic to concerned in a matter of moments.

"Everything is fine mother," Spock replied civilly. "I wish to speak with Sarek."

"_Your father?_" her question sounded somewhat disappointed, making it quite apparent that she'd hoped Spock would want to speak with her instead. "_Well, I suppose you can, but not until you refer to him as you ought._"

"Mother, we have been over this approximately twenty-one times," Spock started, Jim laughing to himself about the exchange. "Vulcan's do not-"

"_Spock_," her tone was scolding and Jim saw his commander visibly close his eyes (irritated even if he denied it) before taking a slightly deeper breath and opening them again.

"I wish to speak with _father_," he finally corrected and Jim stifled a laugh.

"_Thank you,_" Amanda replied. "_I'll go fetch him. And while you wait, I suggest you consider your attitude young man. Perhaps your father doesn't view it as disrespectful, but I do. And as your mother, I have a say in how you were raised._" No matter how Spock fought it.

"Of course mother," Spock agreed, the transmission falling silent as Amanda vanished in search of Sarek.

"Young man?" Jim inquired jokingly.

"A highly illogical term," Spock replied without looking over. "I have past young as far as vulcan age." As if he had to clarify such a fact to Jim. The two were, actually, rather close in age, Spock only being four Earth years older.

"You'll always be young to your mother."

"As I said, illogical."

Jim didn't attempt to hide his laughter this time.

"_Spock,_" the tablet was talking again. "_Your mother has informed me that you wish to speak_." Sarek was as cold as ever, causing Jim to immediately frown. The relationship between father and son was strained, that much he knew.

"Yes," Spock verified. "It is concerning matters of my shore leave." Jim could have sworn he heard Amanda question in the background excitedly. "I wish to return to Vulcan for part of its duration."

"_I do not understand why you need speak with me about this matter,_" Sarek replied. "_Which can only lead me to understand that you must know of complications that I do not._"

"Your logic stands," Spock verified. "Because of orders from Starfleet, I am to remain with my captain during this time as well, which poses the complication." He didn't explain further, there was no reason to. His purpose in babysitting Jim was his own and his father had no reason to question it.

"_I see,_" Sarek replied. "_However, I fail to understand why you have decided to visit Vulcan at this time then. You have foreseen the issues of such an attempt and know the odds are far from your favor. It would be logical not to come at all._"

"_What did you just say?_" It was Amanda's voice in the background. "_Now you listen to me Sarek_," abruptly she was louder, as if she'd just come closer to whatever device was being used to receive the transmission. "_Our son hasn't been to visit us in six years. Don't you dare turn him away now with your 'logic.' You make sure he gets here whether Jim is with him or not._" The captain smiled at Amanda's casual use of his first name.

"_Wife, it is unlikely that I will be able to come up with a convincing argument to present to the council that will allow a human casual entrance into_-"

"_I don't care,_" Amanda made perfectly clear. "_You make it happen. Lie of you have to._"

"_I cannot do_-"

"_You can if I tell you to,_" Amanda certainly wasn't afraid of displaying her humanity in front of her husband. "_Trust me, if you don't get Spock here as soon as possible, I'm going to make sure my 'humanity' makes your life a complete mess._" In other words, she'll be in a bad mood for a very, _very_ long time.

The line was silent for a moment before Sarek cleared his throat.

"_Spock, is it reasonable to assume that Captain Kirk is your t'hy'la?_" A vulcan word that Jim didn't recognize. Because Starfleet was centered on communication between all civilizations, English had long since become a mandatory language to be fluent in. It was commonly used for all communications, all conversations. Vulcan's all spoke vulcan, but they generally spoke English just as well, which was why Sarek spoke with Spock now in the tongue. It was logical to know and use because it was the most decorated, versatile language. It was simple enough that everyone could pronounce, but complicated enough to explain even the finest points of diplomacy.

There was a pause before Spock answered. "Yes," he affirmed finally. "He is my t'hy'la." Jim was starting to get somewhat annoyed that he didn't know what the term meant.

"_I will speak with the council_," Sarek agreed. "_Tonight, after we've discussed all our most important subjects. I will explain Captain Kirk's character as I know him and the predicament you now find yourself in. However, they are bound to come to the same conclusion I did when considering the logic of your visit._"

"_Then you tell them that the visit was requested by me,_" Amanda replied. "_You are an ambassador to Earth and I am your wife. To disrespect me by denying me some of my human expectations would be extremely insulting to my human emotions. I wish to see my son and if vulcans respect humans as much as they claim, they should grant this simple wish. Jim is hardly a threat to our culture_," though she separated herself from vulcans, she also included herself, a fact that Jim found quite interesting to note. "_His record is proof enough of that and should alleviate all concerns._"

She knew an awful lot about him for him being her son's superior, or so Jim thought only quickly.

"_I will do what I can_," Sarek stated simply. "_I will contact you when I have a response_," he spoke to Spock. "_Until then_," he held up the vulcan salute to which Spock replied in turn.

"_See you soon honey!_" Amanda's farewell was far more warming, Spock nodding at hearing her words. Shortly after, it was apparent the transmission was over, Spock sitting back in his seat.

Jim smiled mischievously, turning on his side atop the bed as he placed his head in his hand, staring at his commander.

"Your mother and father," he started, "they pretty much travel together all the time, yes?" Granted, it had become apparent they were on Vulcan currently, but that wasn't always the case.

"Yes," Spock replied easily.

"And they each have separate codes for taking transmissions," Jim asked, but kept going before Spock could answer. "So, technically, you could have called your father directly and your mother wouldn't have known the difference."

Spock blinked. "Yes," he verified again.

"So, if I'm correct, you called your mother instead to make sure she was present when your father came to speak with you." Spock raised his eyebrows. "Am I right in assuming that Amanda being there raised your odds of success by a considerable amount?"

"That would be correct," he didn't even try to hide the truth.

"You took advantage of your mother's human emotions and attachments to make sure your father put forth the right amount of effort," Jim chuckled. "Well Spock, I must say, I'm impressed by your tact. I didn't think you had such a devious nature."

Spock furrowed his eyebrows. "I do not," he replied easily. "I was simply raising my chances of success by including other variables. I see nothing 'devious' about it."

"So everything you just did was… logical?" Jim was skeptical.

"Well, yes," Spock agreed. "Logical."

"Right," Jim sighed and fell back into the sheets. "Logic."

Spock blinked.

**oOo**

Jim loved the Enterprise. Really, he did. Maybe more than he loved anyone or anything in the universe. But he did have to admit, the runabout they'd just entered was quite the temptation. Unlike the Starships used by Starfleet, it was, perhaps, luxurious. The Enterprise and her counterparts were made for long distance space travel, for potential attack and military contact. Everything was protected, hardened, barebones. Yes, they had their private quarters, but even those were drab compared to the ships used and owned more privately.

"I could almost spend my entire leave on this ship," Jim stated as he dropped his single suitcase to the floor and flopped down on a nearby sofa. The ship wasn't huge by any means, perhaps three times the size of the Enterprise bridge. Up front was the navigation chair, the controls condensed to about a five-foot girth. Behind that on the left was a small area with a replicator, table, and chairs, all of them sleek and modern. An attractive dining space. Next to that, on the right where Jim sat, was the living space, two comfortable couches surrounded by end tables and, before him, a large, thin screen that wouldn't stand a chance of surviving on the Enterprise, but could provide the highest quality entertainment possible aboard a runabout.

Further back, on either side of the entrance, were two beds, each of them furnished with the softest comforters and sheets. And behind them, as this ship had obviously been designed for two, were matching bathrooms. There was another door as well, one placed beside the main entrance, which probably led to the more technical bits of the ship.

The whole thing was brightly lit, inviting, and rather comfy. To be frank, it wasn't exactly the high end of luxury. In fact it was quite basic, no doubt chosen based on logic rather than indulgences, but compared to the Enterprise, it was paradise.

"I could arrange that our stay remain here, if you would like," Spock replied as he, ever rational, took his lone suitcase and placed it at the base of the small closet beside the bed he'd claimed as his own.

"No, no," Jim waved him off, leaning his head over the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "Let's wait and see what Sarek has to say, then we'll figure out what we're doing."

"I expect a transmission from him within the-"

Quite on time, the large screen in front of Jim alerted the two that they had an incoming transmission from Vulcan. Upon coming aboard, Spock had programmed their code numbers into the ship so all their transmissions would come there as well. Accepting the hail, Jim scooted over on the couch as Spock took a seat beside him, posture straight and dignified.

Sarek's face was quite large before them.

"What were the results of your endeavor?" Spock asked, the two not even bothering with a friendly hello. Jim didn't comment however, leaning back comfortably to listen.

"_The council will allow it,_" Sarek replied, Jim raising his eyebrows as a surge of excitement came up from his toes to his nose. "_Despite misgivings about allowing outsiders into our society, it was deemed that rejecting Captain James Kirk could be taken as a very high offense towards humans. Though we are not affected by such emotions, we must be sensitive to other races concerning such matters. He is your t'hy'la Spock. As you have labeled him with this status, he must be recognized and provided trust by our people until given reason to deem otherwise. It is your right to choose whom to label as such and the council cannot object even if he is a human. To do so would be illogical, so we are obligated to allow him passage._"

"I see," Spock nodded his head once. "We will set course for Vulcan as soon as possible." Sarek nodded as well, the two once again sharing a vulcan solute, to "live long and prosper," before the transmission ended.

Spock immediately rose to his feet and headed towards the navigation station at the head of the ship. He made himself quite comfortable in the chair before flicking the necessary buttons to start the runabout. It purred smoothly all around them, Jim hardly taking note of it as he followed Spock to the front. Placing his hands on the back of the chair, he considered his words thoughtfully and with furrowed brows.

"So, help me to understand this Spock," Jim started as the ship began to leave the dock, the computer explaining quietly the status of their departure. "The whole reason the council decided it was okay for me to visit Vulcan with you is because you labeled me with this… t'hy'la status." It wasn't a question, but a statement, so Spock didn't reply. "Would you mind explaining what that means exactly?"

There was a slight pause before any response was given, Spock preoccupied with setting the coordinates for their destination before inducing warp speed. As soon as they were safely flying through space however, he turned his attention to Jim.

"T'hy'la is a vulcan term that can be equated with the idea of friendship to humans," Spock clarified. "However, as vulcan rarely form such attachments, to be labeled a t'hy'la is a great honor and privilege. You are not only my friend, but equivalent to my brother. That is why the council allows it. Because to reject your presence after I have deemed you such would be to say that I am not welcome either. You are my equal, so therefore must be allowed."

"I see…" Jim was somewhat surprised by the gravity of the term. "So do all vulcan have a… t'hy'la?" He felt his heart speed up in his chest, but quickly squashed the feeling. Just because Spock had admitted he was a close… "friend" didn't mean anything more than it was.

"No," Spock replied easily. "Our beliefs in remaining without emotion make it nearly impossible. It is only after deep meditation and logical consideration that such a choice is made." He raised his eyebrows. "You being my t'hy'la was the most reasonable decision to make." Apparently thinking he'd given explanation enough, Spock stood, Jim backing up out of the way as he watched his commander head towards the table. Once there, he sat down, his tablet pulled out before him.

Jim's lips fell slightly agape.

"I don't… I don't understand," he replied, having run the vulcan's logic through his head multiple times and still failed to comprehend. "This t'hy'la is a… a choice? You can pick anyone to fill the position? That doesn't…" Jim's eyebrows furrowed considerably.

Had Spock been one to sigh, he might have. Instead, he closed his eyes for only a moment before looking to his captain.

"It is not a choice in the understanding you have assigned it," Spock began. "The idea of the t'hy'la is an ancient one, a practice that dates back even before Surak invited us into the idea of living by logic. And it is one of the few traditions he valued from our barbaric past. You are my friend Jim, so it is logical that I bestow the honor of t'hy'la upon you."

"Okay…" Jim still didn't understand, his feet slowly carrying him to the table before he pulled out the chair beside Spock's and sat down. "But… you have other friends as well. I guess I'm failing to understand the significance of it. Would Bones be characterized as your t'hy'la as well…?"

"You are equating the idea of friendship to humans as if it were the same for vulcan," Spock continued to try and make Jim understand. "I do consider Dr. McCoy a friend as far as the definition humans have granted it. It is logical to do so. However, though t'hy'la does encompass friendship, it is different than what I share with the doctor. You are… my closest friend."

"I… thank you Spock," Jim nodded. "But… I still… so I'm your t'hy'la because I know you best? Is that all you need?" Was he looking for a deeper reason where there wasn't one? Yet Jim couldn't possibly believe that vulcan were that shallow.

"No, Jim," Spock's exhalation was a bit longer than usual, hinting that he was attempting to consider a new way to explain that his captain would comprehend. "Vulcan are not emotionless. I know you understand this in a way that most humans would not. We are able to practice self-control, yes, because of our brain make-up and because we are determined to do so, but that doesn't mean we are void of them. We clear our minds and reject them, but we must do so through meditation and self-perseverance. It is not unnatural for us to do so, it is logical. Even in our past, we were spurred to act by logic, even if it was emotional logic.

"By controlling emotions, we are able to act past them, to be civilized, but those emotions still reside within us." Spock pursed his lips and Jim realized quite suddenly that what he was explaining caused him discomfort. Whatever he was about to say was something he probably wouldn't on a regular basis. "A t'hy'la is recognized because of our meditation on these emotions. We are able to reject emotion by rationalizing it. This does not mean we don't comprehend its source. After coming to realize what the emotions I felt towards you meant, I was able to reasonably reject them, yet that doesn't mean I don't recognize them. It is… shameful that I feel anything towards you that requires comprehension to dismiss, which is why I recognize you as my t'hy'la."

"Wait, wait, wait," Jim was shaking his head. "I still don't… You're ashamed yet it's an honor?" He wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered. Or maybe just angry.

"It is shameful because I formed any kind of feelings for you," Spock continued to dissect the situation, Jim's heart beating faster. "It is a fact, one that I do not act on. It is my control that creates the privilege. I recognize my weakness and am able to suppress it. You are my closest friend, but I am not swayed by this fact. I choose to accept this weakness in a logical, controlled manner, or face irrational, uncontrolled consequences by attempting to deny it. The lesser of two evils, I believe you would say. I have tackled the setback as it should be, yet the fact that you have affected me so is what grants the honor. It is not easy for anyone to cause such emotion in a vulcan, so the fact that you have proves your importance. And I am able to admit this to others because I have control over it."

"Okay…" the whole idea seemed rather round-about to Jim. "You make it sound like it isn't a good thing, but then your say it's an honor and-"

"Just because it is an honor and privilege doesn't make it good," Spock corrected. "It is what it is." He turned back to his tablet, as if deeming that the end of the discussion. Unfortunately, Jim wasn't one for orders or hints. At least, not when he wasn't the one giving them.

"So you're… ashamed of me then?" he deduced.

"No," Spock replied without even looking up. "To be ashamed is a human emotion. It is shameful, but I am not ashamed. Most humans fail to understand the difference." Yeah, Jim among them, but he didn't say that out loud.

"Right…" Perhaps he should just stop trying to understand. Odds were, he never would. But Jim Kirk didn't believe in no-win scenarios. "So basically it's okay because you realize it's _not_ okay and are able to control yourself into not feeling anything _because_ you feel something."

"Yes," Spock stated simply.

"Okay…" Nope, he still didn't get it. "And it's very rare that this happens… So how often _does_ it happen? Does your father, for instance, have a t'hy'la?"

"I cannot tell you for sure as it is not my place to know." An answer to both questions. "Generally, the identity of such a person is kept only between the two involved, a secret that is never uttered. It is only because of the uniqueness of our situation, because you are a human and we travel to vulcan, that it was spoken of at all."

"Oh," Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I apologize then, I didn't realize you wouldn't want other people to know." Spock didn't reply. "If you'd said so earlier, I never would have been so pushy about us going there." He didn't want to cause Spock any embarrassment, even if his commander _did_ sufficiently quell it.

"You seem to be under the impression that I have taken some kind of offense," Spock continued to poke at his tablet, quickly zipping through a program Jim didn't have the patience to follow. "I have not, so there is no need to apologize."

"Of course," Jim sighed. "I bet your father doesn't have a t'hy'la," now he was juts trying to keep conversation. "He seems a little too uptight for that." Then again, the same would probably be said for Spock. Yet Jim never felt as if his Second was as cold as the other vulcan's he'd met. Or perhaps it was because of their close relationship that he felt this way. He was able to read Spock in ways that he couldn't others of his kind.

"You seem to want me to speculate," Spock verified and all Jim could think was "please do." "I cannot know for certain, but based on my logical observations of Sarek, I would have to presume that his t'hy'la is my mother."

"Oh, well," when considering the idea, Jim supposed that such an assumption was probably pretty obvious. "I guess that makes sense. So there isn't a special word for wife then? Is t'hy'la used-"

"You are misinterpreting the meaning of the word," Spock interrupted, easily able to deduce where Kirk's thoughts were headed. "Marriage does not justify t'hy'la. Most marriages in vulcan culture are arranged," as Jim well knew. "That my mother is probably Sarek's t'hy'la is just as much a rarity as you being mine." Every time he mentioned the rarity of the honor, Jim's blood tried to run to his face.

"She's his closest friend then," Jim determined with a nod, his arms crossing over his chest. "Like a… sister?" To him, the thought was abruptly odd, his eyebrows furrowing, and Spock's lips twitched as if he might smile, but decided against it.

"T'hy'la encompasses the idea of friend, brother, or, as you have inferred, sister. That does not mean each has to be applied. If my mother is Sarek's t'hy'la, she is his friend, but also his lover, the last of the three terms humans can equate with the notion." Spock returned to his tablet, Jim stiffening in his seat.

"Lover?" he repeated, consciously aware of the way his voice had risen in tone before loudly clearing his throat.

"Yes," Spock wasn't at all fazed, of course. "Friend, brother, lover. It can mean one, two, or all three. Obviously, not all need be applied," he glanced back up at Jim. "_We_ are not lovers."

Jim couldn't hide his blush this time. "Obviously," he squeaked. "That's just wrong. On so many levels." Maybe he was trying too hard. "I mean, you and me? _Together_? That's a little bit… gross."

Spock really did furrow his eyebrows then. "I was under the impression that humans had long since embraced homosexuality." The blushing, Jim couldn't stop it. "It is rarely practiced on Vulcan because it cannot lead to reproduction, but among many races, if not most, it is considered natural."

"Uh, yes, well, that's not what I meant," Jim tried to correct. Clearly, since he was quite bisexual, he didn't have any issues with the idea. He'd been with both men and women. That someone would take issue with a person's sexual preferences was as backwater as someone having a problem with one's skin color. In today's society, with so many races from so many different planets working together, holding such medieval prejudices would hardly allow them to function in proper culture.

"Then you think I am… gross?" Spock seemed to be growing more puzzled over the thought as the seconds wore on. "Is this a personal opinion about me or are you, as a rule, un-attracted to vulcans?"

"No!" Jim reached out and placed his hand on Spock's upper arm, as if to reassure him that he was completely wrong. The commander glanced down at the contact only shortly before returning his attention to Jim, accustomed to unwelcomed physical touching from his captain. "I don't think you're gross and I have no preference when it comes to… vulcans."

"Then I fail to understand your statement," Spock replied.

"It doesn't matter," Jim assured quickly. "I… misspoke, pay it no mind." Taking a deep breath, he released Spock and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think you're gross," quite the opposite actually. "I just meant that it'd be… illogical."

"Of course," Spock agreed far too readily for Jim's feelings. "You are a male, thus illogical to take as a mate." He returned once again to his tablet, Jim suddenly ready to continue with the conversation despite his previous misgivings.

"Wait, that's the second time you've mentioned that," Jim started, somewhat irritated now. "Modern technology allows homosexual couples to create offspring," the ability to create both an egg and sperm, when appropriate, from someone's DNA had long since been perfected. And so too ways to grow the fetus without the aid of a female. "So I guess I don't see how that's _logically_ a variable."

"I suppose, from that mindset, it would be illogical to take a mate at all," Spock replied as he looked up again (one would think he'd get tired of being interrupted). He was heading in exactly the _opposite_ direction of the subject Jim had intended though. "However, if creating offspring is such a minute task in the general gist of life, then I suppose we vulcan stick to male and female pairings because it is easiest," no need for unnecessary science, "and therefore more logical." No emotions required either.

"Are you suggesting then that whatever is easiest is always the most logical?" Jim knew perfectly well that he was twisting Spock's words, but he didn't particularly care. At this point he was only saying such things to poke and prod his commander, to bother him. An endeavor that would, eventually, be successful.

"Only in this instance," he replied easily. "Vulcan could, I suppose, adopt the idea of reproducing without the actual act of mating. However, humans do so because they have chosen a mate and it is impossible to produce offspring without assistance. If the same idea were to be applied to vulcan, we would surely cease to naturally reproduce at all. Were it not for this necessity," and Pon Farr, "we would no doubt become celibate."

"Well there's always the t'hy'la lovers category," Jim stated somewhat unenthusiastically.

"True, though the number of t'hy'la's is hardly large enough to provide enough offspring to continue our race, and of those even fewer are lovers. I suppose that in the case of us adopting this notion, another way would have to be developed to ensure vulcan survival. Perhaps a DNA sample provided at birth that is then randomly combined with another. That would be the most logical solution."

Jim couldn't believe Spock was taking this so seriously.

Or maybe he could.

"Or you guys could just, I don't know, fall in love with someone." He said such a thing fully aware of the consequences he was going to receive.

"Love is illogical," Spock stated simply.

"Then how is your mother your father's t'hy'la?" Jim countered, thinking himself quite clever. "If they're lovers, then certainly they must love each other." To him, it seemed to make sense.

"The term 'lovers' does not refer to the idea of love, but the action of it. That is, intercou-"

"And thank you very much Spock for the oh so lovely image of your mother and father doing… that," Jim shook his head, trying his best to shake the picture from his mind as soon as possible.

"It is only natural Jim," Spock seemed to scold. "I don't quite understand why you take offense to it. We vulcan adhere to the idea quite well."

"Yes, right, because it's logical to do it with a stranger in order to make a baby, I get it," Jim sighed, his eyes closing as he, again, was assaulted by the imagery of Vulcan on Vulcan sex. Curse his vivid imagination and above average visual interpretations.

Spock could sense his displeasure at the idea. "I understand that your human sentiments prevent you from accepting this mindset and if it makes you feel better, I apologize. I had no intention of making you uncomfortable."

"It's not that Spock," Jim sighed. "It's just that where I come from, having a baby isn't something that's considered logically, at least not in your way of thinking. If anything, it is only expected to happen after deliberating the idea for a very, very long time. And, if possible, doing so with someone you… love." Of course there were exceptions, like accidents, and single individuals who simply desired a kid. "Creating a child out of… obligation just seems somewhat cold."

"To humans perhaps," Spock nodded. "But to vulcan, we are raised into the mindset, and so do not feel that way. I am not without sympathy for your perspective however. Vulcan families are seen as one whole, children are important, and my mother did provide affection past that of a typical vulcan mother. However, if we lived by your mindset, only choosing to create offspring after… choosing an adequate t'hy'la, we would hardly ever have children."

Jim was again shaken by the idea that his relationship with Spock was being issued alongside the notion of lovers.

"Speaking of that," Jim was struck by a sudden epiphany. "If Vulcan do not participate in… sex because to do so isn't logical, then how are your mother and father characterized as lovers? Or any t'hy'la lover for that matter?"

"It is, again, something that is not openly discussed," Spock replied. "My mother is human and no doubt gets some sort of pleasure out of the act, and so desires to do it," Jim sighed. "That is not to say that Vulcan do not, but simply that we suppress such urges. With a t'hy'la lover however, I… can only assume that because the feelings are reciprocated, there is some sort of logic in commencing in the act. As I have no experience in the issue however, I cannot provide a concrete answer."

"So in order to have a t'hy'la, the feelings have to be reciprocated by both parties," Jim determined. "You assumed, when choosing me, that I felt the same for you?" How was it they could speak of such personal matters and not feel awkward? If he'd been having this conversation with another human, well, it wouldn't have gotten this far. The luxuries of a vulcan friendship he supposed.

"You did say that I was closer to you than anyone in the universe," Spock quoted. "Was I wrong to take that statement at face value?" His eyebrows rose quite abruptly, as if realizing that perhaps he may have made a mistake.

"No Spock, you're quite right," Jim assured quickly. "But what are you going to do when I don't share the same feelings anymore?" Spock furrowed his brows then, not at all understanding the question. "You seem to forget that I'm a human and that I form feelings of… closeness with more than just one individual." Spock's face cleared as he considered the idea. "What about when I get married? Or am in a serious relationship? Wouldn't my 'closeness' with that person logically trump mine with you?"

"I… had not considered that," Spock replied quietly. "I suppose you could still be _my_ t'hy'la even if I wasn't yours." He didn't sound entirely comfortable with the idea and Jim frowned. Yet at the same time, it was a logical question. Though Jim was… quite taken with his first officer, he didn't plan to be pining after him for the rest of his life. And if he did meet someone, his relationship with them would grow stronger than his with Spock… right?

That was what love was supposed to be, and he didn't want to be in love with an unfeeling vulcan for eternity.

Wait, love? Was he really? No, he was falling, _falling_. There was a huge difference.

"It is logical that you will eventually choose a mate," Spock continued robotically. "And when that time comes, I will be prepared to…" To what? Accept he wasn't the most important anymore?

"Spock," Jim said his name quietly. He hadn't intended to upset his commander and was feeling a considerable amount of guilt over doing so. Even if Spock denied it. "I shouldn't have said that," his second was refusing to look at him. "You said it yourself that a t'hy'la is an emotional decision. I assure you that I will always be yours, I promise."

"True," Spock's jaw tightened. "But not I yours. As you have already made clear, it is hardly plausible. And when the time to realize this fact comes upon us, I will be prepared." He'd emotionally fortify himself. "It was illogical for me to have presumed that you would forgo your human needs in favor of my lifestyle," Jim gaped in confusion then. "I understand this, and accept it."

Quite suddenly, he stood, Jim staring on without knowing what to say. His 'lifestyle?' What did that even mean?

"If you will excuse me Jim," Spock was staring at the door to the engineering room, "I feel the need to meditate in private."

"Wait, Spock-"

"I beg this indulgence," he continued. "It is a practice we vulcan need above all else." He was still refusing to look at his "t'hy'la." And Jim, who was still somewhat behind on the whole situation, didn't know what to say.

"A-alright," he stuttered rather lamely, Spock already headed for the engineering entrance. It slid open for him right away, his dark clothes vanishing into the other part of the ship before the door separated them completely.

Jim, still slack jawed, stared in silence at the space where his commander had disappeared.

_What had just happened?_

**oooooooooooooo**

**A/N: **Oh, poor Spock. He hadn't been expecting Jim's own logic on the situation. And here he thought he had Jim all to himself.

Not a whole lot of action in this chapter, just some fluff and perspective on vulcans. Next chapter will be better however because the two will be arriving on Vulcan. Woot! And why do I have the feeling that Amanda is going to be sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong? Mother's have a way of doing that XD

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Please, PLEASE R&R! Your thoughts are very much appreciated, especially since this this is my first Star Trek fanfic.


	3. Chapter 3: Fantastic Misunderstandings

**The Psychology of You**

_Chapter 3: Fantastic Misunderstandings_

He'd been expecting this development for some hours now.

Unlike vulcan, humans required rest at shorter intervals. Despite Jim's attempts to extend this as long as possible, he was up to approximately twenty-six hours and thirteen minutes. He'd finally been forced to succumb, the book he'd been reading (he'd always taken an interest in antiques) lying precariously across his chest as his head lolled over the back of the couch.

He'd finally found sleep.

It was common among humans to try and avoid that which they were wary of, dreams in Jim's case. It was illogical, but true, and so Spock watched him quite closely, looking for any signs of distress. He spotted none however, hinting that these nightmares were not immediate. However, the position Jim had fallen into would no doubt hurt him come morning, so Spock came to the logical conclusion that he should probably move him to the bed.

Standing, he quickly made his way across the room to the couch before bending over. He hesitated before touching Jim however, reminded quite suddenly of the time he'd made contact with him during sleep before and been mentally assaulted. He'd come to realize that when Jim was in command of himself, conscious, this didn't happen when they made physical contact, but the theory hadn't yet been tested in sleep again.

Best not let their skin touch at all.

Careful to avoid this, Spock placed one of his arms in the crest of Jim's knees and the other under his back before lifting him fully. He was extremely light, as was to be expected as far as vulcan standards, and remained sleeping, head falling against Spock's chest as he carried him to his bed. He set him back down gingerly, making sure his head was properly supported atop a pillow before releasing him.

Leaning back, he stared down at the sleeping captain, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Despite how quiet he was, Spock did have to admit that Jim didn't look at all at peace. His lips were pulled into a frown, a weariness about his expression. As if, perhaps, he'd been unconsciously anticipating the nightmares all day and fallen asleep haunted by their shadows.

Human fear. It did so much more damage than necessary.

Catching himself in his observing, Spock decided there was no logical reason why he should be hovering when he could instead get back to his work. He would know if Jim suffered and standing over him wasn't going to protect him from the threats of his subconscious.

Yet, as he was about to walk away, he heard it, the slight intake of breath. Twitching his eyes back, it was apparent that Jim had moved, his face contorted into something akin to anxiety. His eyes remained close, the visions that harassed him ones only he could see.

Or was _allowed_ to see. Spock would _not_ invade his mind again.

"Spock," Jim's voice was hardly a whisper, barely hopeful. "Spock, come back. Please…" The pain painted inside the creases of his face spurred Spock closer to the edge of the bed. "Please don't leave me…" The sound of his voice was so broken, so defeated. As if he'd fought this battle a million times and knew, for certain, that he was going to lose. A whimpering beg was all he had left as defense.

Crouching down beside the bed, Spock considered his options. To wake Jim would be illogical no matter how much he wanted to. A life without sleep wasn't plausible, and so the logic couldn't stand.

Perhaps he should just let him fight it?

He looked so… ill…

"I'm sorry…" Jim muttered. "Please don't go. I'm sorry…"

"What are you sorry for?" Spock asked quite clearly yet quietly enough not to rouse his companion. It wasn't illogical to assume that just because Jim was asleep, he wouldn't understand. Perhaps in this way, Spock could somehow calm his mind.

"I must have…" Jim vaguely shook his head. "You're leaving… me…"

"I am not leaving," Spock verified. "I am right here." He leaned a little closer, to make sure his words were heard. "I take no offense Jim, you know that." His eyes surveyed his Captain up and down, taking in every facet of his distress. Beneath the skin of his fingertips, running up and down the flesh of his arms and causing his blood to pump faster, Spock felt _it_, but stifled and tossed it away just as quickly.

Emotional concern.

"Come back," Jim continued begging, his second's voice no longer getting through. He was convinced, in the garish images of his sleep, that he was being abandoned, left behind. Something his t'hy'la wouldn't, _couldn't_, ever do. "I need you…"

"I am here Jim," Spock continued to try, his hands falling to the sheets as his fingers crumpled the fabric. _Push it away; it's irrational_. He needed to focus. "I will never leave you, you are… the most important." The root definition of the honor he had bestowed upon his captain.

"Come back…"

It wasn't working. Jim was so indulged in his own delusions that he couldn't hear reality. For a split second, Spock considered raising his voice, jolting him into wakefulness, but logic quickly cut in.

These nightmares were a regular occurrence at this point, or so Spock could deduce. Jim needed sleep to survive, which meant that if there was no escape from the nightmares, he simply had to make it through them.

Spock's hands twined even deeper into the sheets, his jaw clenching. Couldn't touch, couldn't risk the chance of invading Jim's mind. His Captain wouldn't appreciate it, would never forgive him if he found out.

Nothing he could do.

"Spock, _please_…"

Nothing…

**oOo**

Well, the whole thing certainly wasn't turning out how he'd thought it would.

That wasn't to say he'd had any real expectations to begin with, but that was beside the point. No matter the case, he hadn't at all intended for his vacation with Spock to become so… distant. On the Enterprise, with their regular duties to occupy them and use as excuses, such atmospheres had never developed, but without that buffer, it had quickly become apparent to Jim that Spock was… avoiding him? Yes, he supposed that was the correct way to look at it. They'd been trapped to the small quarters of the runabout for a day and a half, yet the two had barely said anything to each other since "the incident."

That was how Jim referred to their conversation during that first hour they'd been alone. He knew he'd said something to set Spock off, to keep him away, and so far had been unable to fix it, whatever "it" was. Unless necessary, they hadn't spoken at all, Spock spending the majority of the trip in the engineering room "_meditating_."

Needless to say, now that they'd finally landed, Jim wasn't exactly in the best of moods.

He was a Starfleet captain however, and he was a guest in a highly private planet. No matter how he was personally feeling, it was his duty to put his best foot forward, even when on vacation. And so, as the two stepped down out of the runabout, Jim pressed all his human emotions to the back of his mind and instead set his focus on Vulcan.

Desert planet of logic.

He'd been there once before and was granted a limited, clouded view of the landscape and culture. They'd beamed down to the ancient land of Spock's ancestors, an area sparse of technology, civilization, and, to be quite frank, modern discipline. He and Bones had witnessed Pon Farr, a tradition as far removed from the current Vulcan lifestyle as possible. Neither of them had been privy to the actual society, to the logic and restraint prided by the planet's people.

But now Jim was going to witness it first hand, so it'd be in his best interests to pay attention.

They'd landed on a smooth, shaved plateau surrounded by tall, piercing russet rock formations, the sky above clear as the sun shone down with a brightness Jim had tried to prepare himself for, based on his one other experience, and had no doubt failed. Even as he stepped out of the gravitationally controlled runabout, he felt his body being drained by the heat, which was much higher than average Earth temperatures. The higher gravity as well seemed to weigh him down, his balance slightly unhinged as he wavered only slightly on his feet. Not to the point where a stranger would notice, but so much that Spock, who was very accustomed to his captain's mannerisms, glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow.

It was a concerned expression, of that only Jim could tell, and he felt some of his pent up frustration slip away. Spock may have been avoiding him, but they were still t'hy'la; they still cared for one another even if neither was entirely apt to admit it.

"I should have prepared you better for the conditions of Vulcan," Spock stated, almost as if he was ashamed of his oversight. But of course that was simply ridiculous. "I would recommend that you shield your eyes from the sunlight until we are inside," his eyebrows were furrowing considerably. "Might I also recommend that you put your jacket back on as well? Your skin is not able to stand up-"

"Spock, I'm fine," Jim interrupted, a small smile gracing his lips. He had packed his jacket in his suitcase, knowing he wouldn't need it. Yet Spock, on the other hand, was completely covered, a fact that Jim suddenly realized was purposeful. He wore his loose, draped clothing to allow for ventilation, but at the same time it protected him from the sunlight.

Jeans and a t-shirt weren't a norm for a reason.

"No matter, we should get you inside as soon as possible," Spock stated, quite obviously not believing his captain. "Vulcan is in high summer and if my knowledge of humans serves me right, and my history of my mother, you will not be able to function properly after a few minutes physical exertion." Jim pursed his lips, not appreciating Spock's attitude but assuming that he should trust his judgment.

"Well, lead the way," Jim motioned forward, conscious of the fact that his underarms were already drenched in sweat, beads of the salty liquid dropping down his skin. Spock on the other hand, well, he looked quite radiant by comparison. Jim had never realized it before, but his first officer must suffer somewhat in the cooler temperatures of the ship. He always wore his sleeves all the way down, a stiffness to him.

But now he'd stretched out fully, feeling comfortable being home where he'd been raised. No longer was he chilled, forced to yield to human needs. Even his skin was slightly greener, his blood flowing more freely since it wasn't restricted to warming his core.

That wasn't what struck Jim the most however. No, it was his expression that awed him the most. Spock's eyes were alight as he glanced across the horizon, his face, though as stoic as ever, seeming almost… blissful.

It'd been a long time since he'd been home under _positive_ circumstances.

"We have landed on the outskirts of Shir'Kahr," where Spock had been born. "This parcel of land is under the ownership of my parents, their residence residing just beyond that-"

"Spock!" He was interrupted by a rather excited, high-pitched voice, both of them returning their attention to the opening in the rock. Standing there, draped in clothes similar to what Spock wore, her head covered, was Amanda. Even through the layers surrounding her face however, they could both see her bright, vibrant smile.

She came forth quickly, her arms outstretched. It was amazing to Jim how much vigor she seemed to possess. He'd barely stepped out of the runabout and begun to feel exhaustion seeping in, yet Amanda, who was a great deal older than him, seemed to be suffering no symptoms at all.

That she'd adapted so well only made him feel slightly inept by comparison.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" She continued once she'd finally reached them. Without hesitation, she latched herself to Spock, her arms wrapping around his as she buried her face in his chest. Her son didn't seem at all perturbed by the physical contact however, something Jim had learned most vulcan were sensitive to. Then again, the captain had always been characterized as a more "touchy-feely" person, yet that hadn't seemed to outwardly disturb Spock. His human mother and her affectations no doubt had something to do with his resilience.

"It is gratifying to see you as well mother," Spock stated, his own arms coming up to stiffly return the hug his mother had bestowed upon him. Jim rolled his eyes before taking a rather labored, puffing breath as his gaze was drawn towards the sun.

"Oh, I just can't believe you're actually here," she took a step back, her smile ever present as she glanced up at Spock, who was quite a bit taller than her. Feeling somewhat bypassed (a fact over which he was never comfortable), Jim finally decided to interject.

"What a highly illogical thing to say," he cracked one of his award-winning smiles, the two finally glancing over at him. "Is what you're thinking I'm sure." He looked to Spock.

"An accurate analysis," Spock verified, spurring the captain to turn his smile on Amanda, his expression one of knowing exasperation. The other human returned the look, the two of them exchanging similar thoughts on her son's disposition without actually having to say anything. Spock was, of course, none the wiser.

"Well, I guess I have to admit then that I'm glad another irrational human is here with me," Amanda, albeit rather slowly, pulled herself away from Spock before approaching Jim. "It's so good to see you again," she stretched out her arms to him as well, Jim easily taking in her hug (unlike her son).

"You as well," he replied, the two parting with far less resistance than Amanda had with Spock. Her smile was ever present however, her upbeat humor almost convincing Jim that he was okay with the heat and sun burning his flesh.

"Well," Amanda snapped around, glancing between both of them. "Let's head down to the house. The sun is excruciating and soon it's going to be beyond me out here," she looked directly at Jim. "And I think it's already safe to assume you're quite over the warm weather."

Jim took a deep breath and sighed. "Perhaps after being here a little while, I'll grow more accustomed to it." He didn't remember it being quite this bad the last time he was here, but perhaps they'd beamed down during one of the colder seasons, making the heat not quite as insufferable.

"I've lived here nearly my whole life," Amanda started as the three began walking, the two newcomers on her either side, "and I still can't stay out in the afternoon for longer than ten minutes. But don't worry Jim," she spoke to him as if she'd known him his whole life, "vulcan understand the logical need for air conditioning." Jim chuckled slightly, much more thankful than he was letting on.

"You have come to meet us alone," Spock stated suddenly, drawing all eyes his way as he changed the subject. "I feel inclined to note that Sarek is not present despite your general assertion that he be near when such familial activities occur." In other words, he was surprised his father hadn't come to see him. And, if Jim knew better (which he did), his commander was also a little downed by the prospect.

"Ah, yes, your _father_," Amanda corrected as they began the decent down the stairs from where they'd landed the runabout. "He's been to see the council all day," taking Spock's hand, she used the other to lift her skirt as they balanced their way down, Jim listening from behind. "He assured me he'd be home as soon as he could, that he'd only stay until he had to, so I can only assume that his logic spurred him to choose work over coming to meet you." Amanda wasn't shy about her feelings on vulcan logic, which prompted Jim to wonder why she'd married one.

Then again, he was equally scornful of their behavior, yet he'd fallen in _love_ with one.

No! Not love!

He was _not_ in love with Spock.

Just falling a little…

"If the meeting demanded his attention, then I agree with his decision," Spock made quite clear. "I will be present for a few days, so there will be plenty of time for us to exchange in conversation, if such a mandate is desired." He spoke of his father as if he didn't really want to talk to him despite having questioned his whereabouts. Jim furrowed his eyebrows, considering the subject. He had the feeling there was more to this family's dynamic than he was aware of, or had inferred rather.

"He should be coming home anytime," Amanda assured as they reached the bottom of the stone decent. They had, in essence, come down around the back of the house. Suspended atop more mountainous, rocky terrain, the small abode was built into the side of the cliff face, overlooking the jagged, desert landscape.

Atop the horizon, on the edge of perhaps ten to fifteen miles, was the silhouette of the city of Shir'Kahr, the bustling urban life, hovercars flying to and fro, apparent at even their distance.

"I was just about to start dinner," Amanda continued as they headed across the flat, stone… yard (Jim didn't know what else to call it).

"Please do not go to such effort," Spock began as they were assaulted by the chilled air inside the house, the door sliding closed behind them. "To do so is illogical. Food from the replicator is just as nutritious and serves the same purpose."

Jim took a deep breath as they entered, his body seeming to sag in relief. He still felt weighed down by the gravity, but at least now the sweating could stop. Still, compared to human conditions, it was nevertheless rather warm. Balmy perhaps, but far cooler than outside. He supposed that hoping for human grade air conditioning was asking a little much in a vulcan household.

"Oh please Spock, don't start," Amanda waved him off, Jim's curiosity slithering in now that he wasn't focused on the heat. "You know cooking it something I enjoy. And your father never eats as much when I use the replicator. There's just something not quite right about it's… perfection."

The house, like everything else, was created from stone. It was sheared and shaved however, the architecture modern and much like the buildings built on Earth. Of course, there was a human touch to this one, or so Jim could only assume because of Amanda. For instance, he wasn't sure how many pictures of Spock sat on the far table in the sitting room, but he doubted most vulcans celebrated their children as Amanda did hers.

"I supposed that when one grows accustomed to the faults of homemade cooking," Spock stated, "a certain inkling of monotonous repetition can occur." In other words, he liked his mothers cooking and was looking forward to it. And so was Jim for that matter. Replicator food _was_ perfect, which made it all rather boring.

It was a small house, logically created for only those who lived there and the margin of guests they might have at one time. But, no doubt because of Amanda, there was a coziness as well, a welcoming vibe that made Jim feel quite at home.

"I'd certainly think so," Amanda agreed as she rounded the heavy, sleek, stone bar that divided the kitchen and the living room. Spock followed her, quite closely Jim noted, and he grinned, thankful he'd been so adamant about coming to Vulcan after all. It was apparent his commander missed his mother considerably.

Deterring his gaze to the photographs again, Jim's grin faded to a softer smile, all the photos of younger Spock warming his chest rather unexpectedly. Some of them moved, digital projections, but many were rather artistic stills, hinting that whoever had taken them (probably Amanda) took an interest in the vintage art of photography. One in particular caught his attention, a larger display at the center of the setup. A baby; one that had burrowed its face into the blanket at its nose, little pointed ears exposed to the light.

Despite how Jim harassed Spock about his ears, he was actually quite fond of them. And seeing them on a newborn was rather… consuming.

He shook his head of the thought.

"Spock," Amanda turned and glanced up at her son, who was hovering only inches behind her, looking over her shoulder. She smiled brightly at his proximity, her hood having fallen back to reveal her gray and white hair, which was tied up in a complicated updo. "Why don't you show Jim to the guest room, that way he doesn't have to leave his luggage sitting out."

Spock raised his eyebrows, Jim again feeling as if he'd been forgotten.

His commander was most definitely a mama's boy.

"Of course," Spock headed out of the kitchen to retrieve his baggage and pick up Jim's suitcase (a most polite gesture). Nodding to his captain, he led the way through the small house, Amanda staring slyly after them, forever grinning.

"We have only one guest room," Spock explained as they headed down a short hall. "It is not customary that vulcans have very many guests, if any," what with them not having friends most of the time, "but it is still logical to be prepared for such an event." At the end of the hall, a door slid open to allow them passage, the lights flicking on as they entered.

The room was small, quaint even. There was a bed, closet, the necessities. Things one would only logically need. There was a large window as well; it took up almost two walls and formed one of the corners. Shallow drapes hung before it currently, but Jim could see the view of the city outlined beyond.

"If anything is to your discomfort, please tell one of us," Spock explained as he set Jim's suitcase neatly beside the closet (a hint perhaps) before straightening. "We would be happy to supply you with whatever you want."

"This should be fine Spock, thank you," Jim clarified. His second nodded, eyes darting only swiftly to the bed as Jim detoured to the window. The flash of Jim trapped in his nightmare ran swiftly through Spock's mind as he stared at the sheets, but he pushed the memory away just as quickly.

"Feel free to stay in here as long as you like or come back out to join us," Spock explained. "I'll be out in the main area of the house." With his mother no doubt, or so Jim thought but failed to say out loud. Instead, he turned to his companion with a reassuring smile. Spock nodded once and, without hesitation, left the room. He had better things to do than stand there and stare at a man he saw every single day, or so Jim figured.

He was thankful for the alone time however. His shirt was sticky with sweat and tugging it up over his head felt quite good as he dropped it to the stone floor. Grabbing the suitcase Spock had placed beside the closet, he laid it down on the bed before opening it, pulling out the last of his t-shirts – this one in simple black – before yanking it on and therein feeling much better. Quickly applying deodorant, he then checked himself in a mirror atop the dresser (it would seem vulcan's saw logic in some vanities) before deeming himself presentable.

Quite interested in witnessing more of the dynamic between Spock and his family, Jim hastened down the hall and back into the main part of the house. Glancing to the kitchen, he felt his grin return at what he saw. Amanda was standing at the counter, working diligently, and Spock was sitting behind her, across the small span of the kitchen at a dining table. He too was distracted, his focus on the stack of red vegetables he was slicing into small chunks. A comfortable silence hovered between them.

"Ah, Jim," Amanda had finally spotted him, her smile again stretching across her lips as he walked into the kitchen. "If you're tired, you can stay in your room," she was referring to his deteriorated state previously. "We're not doing a whole lot out here and I can call you when dinner is ready."

"I appreciate that, but I'm quite alright," he assured, understanding that she was offering him an escape if he was feeling under the weather. "Actually," he raised his eyebrows, "if there's anything I can help with, I'd be more than happy to do so." He glanced over at Spock, who was staring at him as well, having paused in his work to listen.

"Of course!" Amanda stated happily. "I was just having Spock cut the savas for me," a fruit Jim knew was native to vulcan and possessed a rather fiery taste. He'd never had one himself however. "If you want to help him, it'd make things go much faster." Jim nodded, rounding the table until he was in the seat beside Spock. Amanda gave him a knife and, watching Spock to make sure he was doing it right, grabbed one of the fruits and followed suit.

"I picked them out of the garden early this morning," Amanda explained as she busied back and forth in front of the counter, Jim wondering quickly where in the world they could possibly have a garden in a place like this. "Savas don't last that long however," she continued, "and I'll have to make them into jam today if I want to save them."

"One of my mother's specialties," Spock explained stoically. "A human tradition I think, one she has quite successfully used against all our native fruits." Jim couldn't help chuckling slightly at his commander.

"You make it sound like a bad thing," he replied as he continued to cut the surprisingly tough fruit. Spock made it look easy and it occurred to him that perhaps Amanda had set her son to work for a reason.

"You attribute a mood to my comment where there was none," Spock clarified. "I was merely stating an observation."

"I think you were insinuating that you don't like your mother's cooking," Jim joked, his comment drawing Spock's eyes upwards. He ignored the look however, preferring to pretend to focus on his own work. "This is the second time you've commented on it."

"Contraire, I find it quite satisfactory," Spock explained. "I grew up eating it, so it is only logical that I adapted to its taste and make."

"So you're obligated to like it," Jim countered, Amanda staring between them with an amused brow.

"I have stated neither a like or dislike for it," Spock explained. "I am accustomed to it, that is all."

"Then you don't know any better," Jim couldn't hide his smirk (not that he ever tried to).

"Are you trying to instigate a fight with me?" Spock replied, his question stretching Jim's lips further. "Based on your expression, I can only assume that you garner some sort of amusement out of such actions, as you always do, and I can assure you that, like every time previous, your attempts will end in failure. It would be logical to stop based on that history."

"Haven't you learned yet Spock that logic doesn't exactly sway me in one direction or the other?"

"I have," he stated somewhat stiffly, sourly Jim observed. "However, I am also aware that humans have a great capacity to learn from their mistakes and I suppose I keep expecting you to do the same. It is unfortunate that you seem to fail in this respect." He returned to his slicing, Jim glancing up in feigned offense.

"That cut me deep Spock," he stated, his mouth pulling into a frown as he placed his hand to his chest in faked sorrow. "Really, I'm hurt that you'd say such thing. My feelings are running rampant with sadness." His sarcasm was obvious, Amanda continuing to listen silently.

"I had no intention of injuring your human emotions," he replied coldly without even looking up. "However, when conversing with you, I find the odds of such to be unusually high, even for a human." If Jim didn't know better, he'd say Spock was looking quite pleased with himself.

"Are you saying that as far as irrational humans go, I'm more so than expected?"

"You said it Jim, not I."

"He's so mean to me," Jim glanced up at Amanda, apparently highly offended. "Did you hear what he just said? Extremely uncalled for. He's like this with me all the time, insulting me and being mean. I hardly deserve it."

Spock hmfed in objection. "To be mean is spurred by emotion, so therefore impossible for me to do. Again, you are assigning your human sentiments where they are incompatible."

"You insulted me," Jim persevered. "Which makes you mean. Like I've said before, you're becoming more and more human all the time. Who's to say you're incapable of cruelty?" He frowned rather dramatically, sulkily going back to his slicing.

"Your _own_ insults can be attributed to the same idea," Spock replied somewhat sharply as he glanced up at Jim again. It was common knowledge that Spock absolutely despised the inference that he was swaying more towards his mother's heritage. He tried extremely hard to be totally vulcan, even if the attempts were in vain.

"My own insults?" Jim smiled again. "How can you say such a thing right in front of your mother? She gave birth to you and still you reject her ideologies as if they're something shameful. How disrespectful."

Spock didn't reply this time, just continued to stare at Jim, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tightened his lips. Jim's needless bickering was finally starting to get to him, a fact over which Jim found himself completely thrilled. Harassing Spock was one of his favorite pastimes.

"Do you two always quarrel so?" Amanda asked, a silent laugh echoing in her words. "You sound like an old married couple." She knew exactly what she'd said and the effect it'd have, but that had in no way stopped her.

Jim felt blood rush too his cheeks at the comparison, only his highest level of self-control managing to push the majority of it back down.

"That is illogical mother," was all Spock said, his tone guarded. Amanda really did laugh then, neither of the two at the table having further comment on the subject as they went about slicing the savas once more.

"Though I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised," Amanda raised her eyebrows thoughtfully as she continued with her cooking, stirring something into a pot on the stove. "You two spend so much of your time together." She didn't exactly defend her stance, just let it hang, Jim slowly glancing up at her with a questioning eye.

Amanda caught the look immediately.

"You are his captain," she defended, " and he your first officer. You two are supposed to work in tandem." She still seemed to be exuding a knowing air and so Jim never lost his inquisitive expression. "And besides that, Spock has told me much about what you two having been doing out there."

"Really?" Jim sat back in surprise, glancing quickly over at Spock, who was still slicing quite determinedly, before flicking his gaze back to Amanda. "Do you two speak often?"

"Well, we don't speak necessarily," Amanda started, "but when Spock left for the Starfleet Academy, I asked that he send me a message every week, just so we could keep in touch." Jim glanced back over at Spock in puzzled surprise. "That way, it hasn't been so bad not seeing him very often. At least I know what he's up to, or at least as much of what he's allowed to tell me." Obviously some Starfleet rules called for secrecy about certain missions.

"Wow Spock," Jim awed. "I didn't know you had it in you." To act so personally and go to such effort on his mother's emotional behalf. It wasn't very vulcan of him.

"The request that I do so requires hardly any effort and eases my mother's human instincts to watch over me," he never looked up from his preoccupation. "If it alleviates her nerves, then to keep her updated on my activities seems the necessary thing to do. Humans often times suffer from stress caused by worry, so to prevent this would be logical." Jim rejected the urge to scoff, instead settling for a disbelieving grin. He was pretty positive that Amanda replied to each and every one of these "messages," and that Spock awaited her responses with pent up expectance.

Though it had become apparent to Jim that Spock, who generally avoided such human connections, kept in better touch with his family than his captain did.

Jim didn't frown, but his grin did vanish.

"Which is quite why I feel as if I know you so well," Amanda explained, her eyes directed at Jim. "Nearly every message I get from Spock entails his escapades with you, dull or exciting. And he always keeps me updated on the tally of victory to losses on your chess games. You are, rather, a main topic the majority of the time."

"You garner a lot of attention Jim," Spock met his Captain's eyes when he noticed the mischievous way he was being stared at. The grin had returned to Jim's face, his eyes dancing with pent up teasing.

"Yes, I agree," Amanda placed her hands on her hips in a scolding manner, both men glancing upwards at the suddenly serious tone to her voice. "From what I've read, you are quite the danger seeker Mr. Kirk," all amusement had vanished from her expression. "And I don't appreciate you constantly dragging my son into it."

"Well," Jim baulked at the reprimand, far too used to being in charge. "I do what I feel I have to. Spock doesn't have to follow me." A weak defense, he knew, and he became quickly aware that he'd said the wrong thing by Amanda's somewhat irritated stare.

"He's your second in command, it's his duty to follow you," Amanda stated, Jim sinking back into his seat quite shamefully. "And it doesn't help that he's developed some kind of complex about always needing to protect you," Jim glanced over at Spock, but his second was staring at the table. "Though I guess I can't be surprised. Considering the amount of danger your put yourself in, he probably thinks it's only 'logical' to expect that you'll need rescuing." She huffed.

"Mother, most of the predicaments we find ourselves in cannot be helped," Spock interjected. "Yes, Jim does generally seem to be the one in danger, but that is only because he is thinking of his shipmates before himself, a quality expected in every Starfleet captain. He is very capable at his job and it would be at a disadvantage to all of us," everyone aboard the Enterprise, "to lose him. It is not Jim who is at fault when I place myself in danger on his behalf."

"It's your logic," Amanda replied sourly, her expression one of resigned acceptance.

"Yeah, well, I'm with your mother," Jim stated as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't care if you do think it's logical. If I place myself in danger, then I chose to do so and am fully aware of my actions. You jumping in and putting yourself in harms way to protect me is probably defeating the purpose a majority of the time." As he's most likely only in danger in order to protect someone else.

"It is my job to protect you," Spock replied quite stubbornly.

"Actually I'm pretty sure your job is to follow my orders," Jim argued, the conversation becoming rather serious all of a sudden. "I'm quite positive there's nothing in your job description about placing your own life in jeopardy over mine." It was the captain's job to do the protecting. Spock could do the same for everyone below him (everyone _except_ Jim), but he technically had no right to interfere if Jim was choosing to put himself in harms way.

"Had I not, you would certainly have died a long time ago," Spock replied. "If there is a chance that I can prevent your death, then as your first officer, it is my responsibility to take that action."

"Not if it puts you in danger," Jim countered. "If my situation has a high probability of risk for those executing a rescue, then I certainly wouldn't expect or want it." He'd never voiced as much before, that some of the times that Spock had defended him he'd been beyond himself with concern when his Second had been injured. Yet he'd always been so relieved afterwards, that Spock had made it, that his attempts to hammer this point home had always seemed… lackluster. But now that the subject had officially come up, he might as well make his stance totally clear. "It is _not_ your job to protect me."

"I _will_ protect you Jim." Spock didn't even hesitate in his reply. Dark eyes leveled with Jim's, his tone sounded almost threatening, his total and complete refusal to consider what his captain said taking Jim aback considerably. He blinked dumbly, realizing that Spock said more with his forceful tone than the actual words he'd laid out.

He would protect Jim whether his captain wanted him to or not, and he _would_ die if he had to in order to make sure Jim survived.

It was totally illogical, Jim's somewhat gaping mouth expressing as much.

Before the conversation could continue however, all three twitched their attention to the entrance on the other side of the house, the sound of someone entering, the sliding swish of the door, causing Amanda's smile to return as she glided across the house to greet the newcomer.

Straight backed and serious, Sarek entered.

Almost immediately, his eyes fell to his wife. Jim noted a slight softening of his expression, but past that could make out nothing. Amanda, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable, reaching up with her two fingers to greet her husband, who returned the gesture. Standing in the doorway, Amanda smiled up at him, their fingertips touching for nearly three seconds before either made any effort to acknowledge each other with speech.

Jim had seen the practice before between Amanda and Sarek, when they'd been aboard the Enterprise, though he'd never inquired into it. He could only assume the finger touching was some kind of strictly vulcan practice, a greeting of some sort? Or a polite recognition?

He could only guess.

"I respect your status as my superior," jolted out of his observing, Jim flicked his eyes back to Spock, who was still staring at him. His voice was low, as if what he said was for their ears only and he was taking advantage of his parent's momentary distraction. "And I comprehend your standing. But…" Spock paused for only a moment. "You are my t'hy'la and it _is_ my responsibility to protect you. Always will your life come before mine Jim. Always."

Turning away, he left Jim slack-jawed and once again dumbfounded as Sarek and Amanda made their way back to the kitchen. And when his thoughts finally came flooding back, Jim wanted desperately to question Spock, to ask why, to demand answers, but his friend's low tone warned him that what he'd said was to remain between the two of them, so he forcefully pursed his lips together and mimicked Spock's gaze on the two approaching.

Standing, Spock held up his hand, his fingers split in the vulcan solute. Sarek mimicked him, the motion brief as the two stared at each other.

"I welcome you back to Vulcan," Sarek stated coldly. "As well as Captain Jim Kirk," he only glanced quickly to the other before going again to his son. "The council welcomes you both as well," those in charge of protecting the culture and philosophies of Vulcan, "and expect that our human visitor will both respect and appreciate our ways while he is here."

"Most certainly," Spock replied easily, ensuring that none of the vulcan need be wary of Jim's presence. He was no threat to the secrets of their lifestyle. Beside her husband, Amanda smiled reassuringly at Jim, who wasn't sure whether he should stand or remain seated, or if he even appreciated the way he was currently being discussed.

But vulcans didn't take offense, so he supposed it didn't really matter.

The conversation between father and son didn't go any further however, the two staring at each other silently for a few moments before Sarek slowly turned his head towards Amanda, his eyebrows slightly raised. Jim wondered if perhaps the mother of the house had insisted that the father attempt to converse with their son despite there being no logical reason to do so.

As if to verify this point, Amanda sighed, quite exasperated.

"Dinner will be ready soon," she explained, a somewhat defeated tone about her as she whisked her way back to the counter. On her way by, she grabbed a handful of the savas, reminding both Spock and Jim that they had a job to do. Taking that as reason enough to break from his father, Spock sat back down at the table and began slicing again.

Sarek then, with only a quick glance at his wife, turned and vanished down the hall, no more words exchanged between father and son.

Amanda sighed in disappointment and, had Jim not been so extremely distressed over what Spock had said to him moments before, he might have chuckled about the whole thing. But instead a rather static silence stretched over the house, hinting to Jim that when dinner did finally come around, it was going to be no better.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to it.

**oOo**

Jim was beginning to feel that he really didn't get along well with Vulcan. Not so much the people (though that was questionable), but the place and culture itself. He couldn't go outside because within minutes he'd be burned and gasping for breath. When he'd attempted to stay true to their expectations and customs, he'd been shot down (apparently guests in a vulcan household were to get up and make breakfast for their hosts. However, when he'd been on the verge of doing so, Spock had come in and stopped him, explaining that Sarek had left already and that neither he nor his mother were hungry. He was welcome to make something for himself however, which he _hadn't_ because that would have seemed incredibly rude to him. So now he was irritated he'd been excused from what was expected, like a child, _and_ that he was starving) and then, to top things off, Spock had avoided him for nearly the rest of the morning. He was probably aware that because Jim hadn't gotten the chance to speak with him the night before about what he'd said, his captain would no doubt pursue the subject that morning.

Besides all that, he'd been sleeping horribly, which no doubt contributed to his foul outlook.

In any case, now that Spock had finally showed back up and expressed that they would go to the city to indulge Jim's human curiosities, he was in such a vulgar temperament that he didn't even want to look at his first officer. Instead, tight-lipped and annoyed, he climbed into the designated hovercar beside his commander and persevered to remain totally silent. It was quite out of character for him and he hoped Spock grew worried over being ignored. Get a taste of his own medicine.

If it bothered the commander however, he didn't say a thing about it, the two totally silent as the city loomed ahead of them on the horizon.

Jim did have to admit that it was quite the impressive sight. The vulcan certainly knew how to take advantage of the natural formations their planet provided them. The city itself seemed to be built into the large stone fixtures, the architecture almost stretching upwards as opposed to outward like most Earth urban centers. Some pieces even seemed to hang from the tallest rock spires, an impressive feat of ingenuity. But of course, because he was so displeased with his trip so far, Jim couldn't stand to be impressed for very long.

He didn't want Spock to see him enjoying himself.

"I have been trying to logically construct a tour route that would grant you the highest instinctual benefits," Spock explained, finally interrupting the silence as they merged into the bustling vulcan metropolis. Everywhere Jim looked, vulcans walked the streets, drove about it hovercars, each of them going about their business in what Jim imagined was the most logical, direct route to success.

"However," Spock continued, "it is difficult for me to gauge where and what you would actually like to see as you have expressed no interest in any sights." Apparently, Spock had expected more discussion during the drive, conversation that would no doubt reveal to him what Jim would like to do.

"I don't know Spock," Jim sighed. "I don't know anything about Vulcan." He crossed his arms over his t-shirt. "What is there to even see?" Yes, he was being purposefully difficult. There were plenty of things he'd like to do, but he was bent on making the whole thing as challenging for Spock as possible.

"We could visit the Science Academy, the seminary, or perhaps the Council Building, which is rich in our culture and heritage. There are also numerous museums dedicated to our-"

"I don't want to do any of that," Jim decided despite the fact that he actually did. "Is there a place where we can go shopping, maybe pick up some souvenirs?" The fact that Spock didn't immediately reply seemed to hint at his disapproval of the idea.

"You would rather indulge in social activities similar to those of your own home planet than explore the intellectual offerings of vulcan culture? A chance that is not often offered to humans?" Jim refrained from smiling to himself. His shallow human desires were ruffling Spock's feathers.

"Well sure," Jim shrugged. "What's so exciting about all that?" Plenty actually. "What I want is _stuff_." Beside him, Spock stiffened, know doubt insulted by Jim's disregard for the culture he was so very proud of. His commander wouldn't admit it, but that didn't make it any less true. Spock had jumped through quite a few hoops to get Jim there and was no doubt bothered that he didn't seem to be appreciating it in the expected fashion. It was petty Jim realized, his behavior, but so was Spock's. Jim didn't like being ignored, or avoided, or patronized. Spock knew this and had done so anyway.

Jim _could_ just confront him about it, but was too uncomfortable with the thought to do so. Immature attempts at payback were all he dared at the moment.

Truly, he didn't like feeling angry with Spock, it hardly ever happened, but he was at a loss. His commander had been avoiding him, hinting that he wasn't interested in talking about what had gone on between them, so who was Jim to force him? This was personal, Jim wasn't the captain, so he couldn't very well command anything out of his first officer. Well, he could, because Spock would no doubt do as he said, but that hardly seemed reasonable.

Yet acting irrationally defensive was?

"How… human of you," Spock stated coldly, Jim whipping his head around to glare at his commander.

"And what does that mean?" Jim asked, knowing full well what the comment had referred to and feeling slightly ashamed that such shallowness was being attributed to him. "I _am_ a human Spock, the faster you figure that out, the better off we'll both be." His comment had been extremely insensitive, referencing their misunderstanding back on the runabout some days before, and Spock had no reply to offer.

Now Jim felt not only annoyed, but quite disgusted with himself as well.

That had been a low blow and they both knew it.

The silence commenced again then, Spock eventually taking the hovercar to what Jim could only assume was a parking structure of some kind. He shut the vehicle down with the simple pressing of a button, the two of them remaining seated for a few seconds before attempting to converse again.

"I do not know what kind of recreational shopping you prefer most to do," Spock started. "It is not a common pastime here on Vulcan, so your options are considerably limited. Unlike humans, we do not indulge in commercializing our culture. There are some general stores that may offer goods that could be of some interest to you, but-"

"Okay, I get it," Jim muttered with a short sigh. "Vulcan don't like shopping." Every second the sour temperament remained between them, Jim felt worse and worse, guiltier. But he didn't know how to fix it. "I just want some clothes Spock," he tried to explain. "I don't have very many of my own and to be totally honest, they're all too tight to be comfortable in this climate." The hovercar had barely been shut down thirty seconds and already he was sweating.

"Why did you not say so in the first place?" Spock asked, tone still chilled. "If your apparel was causing you discomfort, then we could have had clothes delivered yesterday. It would have been easy to take and send your measurements. We vulcan hardly leave our homes in order to purchase new clothing." It was no doubt a waste of time and illogical to do so.

"Well, sorry," Jim replied snottily. "I guess my illogical human mind just didn't consider that." He wasn't sure if it was Spock's attitude or the constant layering of his own irritation that was making his chest tight.

Spock didn't reply at first, his eyes dropping to the side.

"There should be a clothing store nearby where we can get you what you need," he eventually explained, his voice somewhat quieter. "Usually fittings must be scheduled ahead of time and are only desired when formal attire must fit near perfectly, but if we explain the situation, perhaps an exception can be made."

"The situation?" Jim questioned, one of his eyebrows cocking as he glanced over at Spock. He didn't get an immediate response, the answer to his question coming to him on its own. "Oh, right, my human ignorance's." If he wasn't so, he'd have known better when it came to all this.

"You are displeased," Spock stated rather suddenly, drawing Jim's eyes back his way. "With vulcan culture and practice. With the planet. None of it is suited for you."

"No," Jim shook his head and sighed, frustrated. "Vulcan is fine, the planet is fine. I knew what I was getting into when I asked that we come here." Had Spock not been ignoring him the whole time they'd been there…

"Your tone suggests I have merely misinterpreted your disapproval," Spock clarified. "If it is the general situation that dissatisfies you, the fact that getting what you desire has become somewhat difficult, then I am more than capable of-"

"It's not that Spock, really. If we can't get clothes right now, then that's fine. I'll just wait until we go back and… order them." However it was vulcan got their clothing.

"I offer condolences on my confusion," Spock continued, his tone sounding rather dronish to Jim, as if Spock were perhaps apprehensive and trying to hide it by pushing words out of his mouth. "But you keep relaying that you are 'fine' with every variable that I bring up-"

"Spock, you really don't need to worry about it."

"-and it can only be logically deduced that I am unable to infer the source of your displeasure. I understand that humans sometimes procure some kind of joy out of guessing games, but-"

"Spock, I'm fine."

"-vulcan do not indulge in such attitudes and I would appreciate it if you would-"

"Oh my god Spock."

"-explain your disapproval so that I can go about finding a remedy that-"

"Maybe I'm just annoyed."

"-will suit to please you in the-"

"Maybe I _woke up_ annoyed."

"-most capable fashion."

"I don't want to talk about it Spock!" Jim huffed, beyond exasperated and quite past his emotional quota. Between his horrible sleeping patterns lately and everything else, he was lacking greatly in patience. "Can you just drop it?"

"It would seem you hardly ever wish to speak with me on personal matters as of late." A reference to Jim's rejection of his attempts to comfort him previously. It was also apparent that this fact bothered him, even if he didn't want to admit it. Not that Jim could be called upon to be sympathetic. If anything, Spock's deduction only angered him further.

"Yeah, well, you're not one to talk, so don't act all victimized about it," Jim snapped, his eyebrows furrowed and tense as he attempted to keep his frustration in check.

There was a pause in their discussion then, the only sound echoing in the car being their breathing. Spock's, smooth and steady as always, and Jim's, tight and shallow.

"You're disapproval," Spock's voice was hardly above a mutter, Jim's eyes flicking his way, "lies with me."

"Yes, it does," Jim snapped immediately, his head shaking as he returned his attention to staring out the window and into the city. He wasn't going to elaborate any further and as silence graced them one again, it became apparent that Spock wasn't going to comment on the matter. "Look, let's just go," Jim began again, his words short and irritated. He didn't get an instant response however which, in his current state of impatience and frustration, spurred him to make some rather childish remarks. "Or _I_ can just go and _you_ can stay in here and pretend that I don't exist as it's what you've become rather good at lately."

Pulling the handle and pushing open the door, Jim stepped out into the suffocating Vulcan air, the whiplash of the heat causing him take hold of the door to steady himself. Sweat began to soak through his clothes, Jim able to estimate that it must be near 60 degrees Celsius (140 Fahrenheit). The thin atmosphere didn't exactly give him much strength either.

He had half a mind to drop back into the car where the remnants of the air conditioning still remained.

"We should get you injected with a tri-ox compound as soon as possible," Spock was at his side in seconds. The dizziness caused by the heat was throwing Jim off considerably. He hadn't even noticed his commander moving to assist him, but he could feel Spock's hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his t-shirt sticking to his skin. "There is a high chance that you will overheat from only a short amount of walking."

"I'm fully aware," Jim stated gruffly, blinking away the dizzy spots blocking his vision. He attempted to shake Spock off, he was still irritated, but the attempt failed.

"It is only just after mid-morning," Spock continued. "The surface temperature of Vulcan will increase yet. Perhaps it would be better if you stayed in the hovercar while I went and got-"

"No need!" Turning, both commander and captain flicked their attention to an approaching figure. He was swathed in the layers of robes typical of vulcans, but as Jim got a closer look at his face, he realized that this man was not only balding, but had a general lack of pointy ears and sharp, angled eyebrows.

Behind him, he was flanked by two others.

"I carry them with me wherever I go," the older man finally got to them, a jovial smile painted across his only slightly wrinkled face. Jim gathered that he was probably in his late forty's to early fifties. "Can't afford to go without them on this planet." In his hands he held a single injection, the aim directed at Jim.

Before the man could continue however, Spock reached out and blocked his progress, his serious face quite daunting as the newcomer glanced up in surprise.

"It's just a tri-ox injection," he defended, quite taken aback by Spock's overprotective nature. Such reactions were not generally expected out of vulcans.

"Just let him do it Spock," Jim brushed his commanders hand back. "I obviously need it." With slight hesitance, Spock lowered his arm, though he was no doubt still suspicious. Logic dictated that a human on Vulcan probably would carry around doses of tri-ox, but at the same time they had no way of knowing what was actually in the injection.

Before any of this could be voiced however, Jim was flinching away from the high-pressured injection, the older man stepping back once he'd succeeded.

Within moments, Jim was blinking back into reality, his movements more alert and less hindered by the planet.

"I can't believe you dared go outside without one of these," the older man waved the injection at Jim in a scolding manner. "It's the middle of summer. No human can function properly in this kind of weather." The stranger, though reprimanding in his words, was still smiling, seeming to be emanating good humor.

"I am quite aware of that," Jim replied, casting the newcomer one of his award winning smiles. Now that he'd regained some sense of his dignity, he was able to shake off Spock's hold, reaching his hand out in greeting. "I'm Jim Kirk."

"Pleasure to meet you," the older man's smile widened even more as the two shook hands, Spock watching the exchange in silence. "My name is Oliver Stock, Professor and Doctor Oliver Stock actually. I recognize your name," he'd furrowed his eyebrows as he stared Jim up and down, a frown finally creasing his lips. "Jim Kirk… You don't happen to be Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise are you?"

"The one and only," Jim replied easily, Oliver's smile again splashing across his face.

"Well I'll-be-damned," Oliver glanced back at his two counterparts, neither of which gave him any kind of response. "Captain Kirk, standin' right here in front of me. Never would have thought. I've heard a lot about you."

"So I've gathered," Jim chuckled lightly. "I'm thankful to have met such a helpful and prepared gentleman. Oh," he glanced to his second only quickly before going back to Oliver. "This is my Commander, Spock. I'm sure that, being here on Vulcan, you've heard of him as well."

"Certainly, certainly," Oliver nodded quickly and held up his hand in the "V" shaped vulcan solute. Spock did the same, nodding only once without saying a word. "You're both quite the talk of the town, here and everywhere else as well I'm sure." Jim raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. He knew he was popular, the poster-boy of Starfleet. The youngest individual to ever become a captain. To say his progress was monitored would be a bit of an understatement.

"I don't mean to be forward," Oliver continued. "But may I ask what you're doing here on Vulcan? I'm quite surprised. Usually the visit of a Starfleet officer would bring about all kinds of pomp and circumstance. Not that such a thing happens very often anyway, but…"

"Yes, well," Jim cleared his throat. "I'm here on a personal matter." Which was even more unlikely. "But let's not continue to talk out here in this horrible heat." For Spock's sake, he'd try to avoid the subject of his coming. "Why don't we head somewhere a little more to our standards?"

"Ah, of course, of course," Oliver nodded along quite willingly. He struck Jim as being a somewhat flakey, exuberant person. "I was just headed to the seminary, but I'd love to continue talking with you Captain. It's not everyday I get to speak with a Starfleet officer, and certainly not a captain of your caliber."

"We were on our way to acquire more adequate clothing for the captain," Spock clarified, Jim glancing back at him, only somewhat disapproving of the use of his title. "He suffers in the thickly woven garbs from his home planet." A cotton t-shirt and jeans weren't exactly thick as far as Jim was concerned, but he supposed when considering Vulcan, they could be.

"Oh really?" Oliver quirked an eyebrow. "Were you headed over to T'Pru's?" Spock nodded. "I hope you have an appointment then. I was just over that way early this morning and she's completely booked with fitting some ambassadors for some kind of fancy space dinner in a few days."

"That is unfortunate," Spock stated. "We will take your measurements when we get back Captain," he'd turned to Jim. "Once we send them in, it will not take but a few hours to have the correct clothing replicated to your stature and delivered. Or, if you prefer, there are numerous other locations we could visit, but without calling ahead, I fear we will run into similar results." Apparently it wasn't logical to just drop in when you needed something.

"We can wait till go back to your parents house," Jim stated with a sigh. "I'll make do." It was too bad his clothes were already soaked with sweat.

"Nonsense!" Oliver interjected, sounding rather affronted by the idea. "You'll still be overheating in those clothes. Come with me," he turned as if to start walking. "We'll head to my office in the seminary and Sauve can take your measurements," he motioned to the male vulcan that had been accompanying him. The other was a female, though Jim did have to admit there was something… off about her. "It'll only take a few minutes walk to get there and I'd love the company of another human for a little while."

Jim looked to Spock, but was able to read nothing of his commander's overly masked expression. Rejecting the urge to sigh, he shrugged before turning back to Oliver.

"I suppose that's fine, so long as it isn't an inconvenience for you," Jim replied.

"Not at all," Oliver stated, Jim following after the older man as he began walking again. Above them, buildings soured up into the sky, the sunlight sifting between the cracks and igniting the dust particles floating through the air. Behind the two humans, all three vulcans fell into a silent line, as if marching solemnly behind the beat of irrationality.

"So you work in the seminary?" Jim asked, finding himself quite content with the fact that he could entertain himself with this man as opposed to being forced to consider Spock. This was a great deal easier.

"Well," Oliver had pulled his hands behind his back, clamping them together in a rather vulcan manner. "It is currently where I'm conducting my research." Around them, vulcan walked by, quite straight faced. Though Jim did notice that they stared at the group occasionally, most looks directed at the captain. They were apparently used to seeing Oliver, but not the new human in their midst. It made Jim slightly self-conscious.

"Research?" he questioned Oliver. "Is that why you're here on Vulcan?"

"Well yes, partly," the older man replied. "And partly because of my daughter." Jim raised his eyebrows curiously as Oliver glanced back only quickly to the female vulcan following them. "No doubt you noticed that she is not entirely like the others." So that was what he'd gotten a glimpse of, Jim thought. The woman was, like Spock, only half vulcan. And as he looked back at her as well, he took notice of things he'd usually only see in Spock. The warmness of her eye color, the way she was hiding her human nature. And as she placed her long, straight black hair behind her ears, he noticed that they were rounded, like her father's.

The other Vulcan, by contrast, was quite different. Jim didn't like to consider it, but to someone as accustomed to Spock as he was, it was quite easy to see the differences between the three. The woman and his commander, to a trained eye, did seem rather different in nature. As if, perhaps, the stiffness of their postures hinted at the nature they tried desperately to hide. To Sauve however, it came innately.

"Yes, well," Jim didn't want to admit, for the woman's sake, that he had realized something was off in her disguise. Or that he knew as much because he could see through Spock's. "Now that you mention it…"

"Her mother, I met her back when I was doing some research back on Earth. You see, I specialize in brain mechanics," the older man cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long speech. "There is, even in today's age, much to be done in the way of understanding the human mind, as well as those of other races. I specialize in human and vulcan, as did Sahare's mother." His daughter. "In any case, we met, were bonded, and ended up with our lovely daughter."

Oliver motioned to a large, very large, building taking up the majority of the cityscape before them. Jim was easily able to conclude that it must be the seminary as the group headed right for it.

"However," Oliver sighed. "She died in an accident a few years later." Jim was about to offer his condolences, but the older man waved him off. "It happened a long time ago," he explained before continuing. "In any case, I then had two very young vulcan children to look after and no idea how to do it." Jim furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, spurring Oliver to explain. "Sauve was my wife's son from a previous bonding that had… also ended in death." Jim nodded. "Anyway, I had little knowledge of how they needed to be raised since vulcan practices are all so secret. I ended up pleading with the vulcan council to allow me to bring them here, where they could be educated in the ways of the vulcan. And I, of course, also pleaded that I be allowed to stay. I am the father of one after all and the caretaker of the other. They had little choice but to let me stay and I have long since been commencing in my research here, studying the vulcan."

Finally reaching the seminary doors, they slid open as they approached, Jim practically bathing in the air conditioning that assaulted him. As far as human standards, it couldn't be much below 37 Celsius, but compared to outside it was heaven.

"Glad to be indoors?" Oliver questioned with a small grin, apparently having noticed Jim's reaction.

"Yes, quite," he agreed somewhat awkwardly, his cheeks pinking slightly at how… rude he must have seemed after the telling of such a sad story. "You seem to have adapted well, that is, to Vulcan," he tried to rekindle the subject as they briskly made their way through the building. It was smooth, modern, on the inside, the halls brightly lit and quiet. The corridor seemed to be rounded, Jim noted, as if they walked along the sides of a large room at the center of the building.

"Yes, well, I've been here nearly seventeen years now," he continued, Jim glancing back again to Sahare and realizing that, yes, she did look a great deal younger than Spock. Perhaps half his age. Sauve as well actually. "Ah, here is my office," he gestured to an upcoming door, one that required voice verification before they were allowed to enter. Once they had however, Jim was pleased to see that Oliver was still quite human. The space was littered with pictures, some moving, some not, as well a nick-knacks and a disorganization no vulcan would ever own up to.

"Excuse the mess," Oliver stated somewhat sheepishly. "I'm not exactly known for being neat." Jim smiled, taking no offense, and, like the other two vulcan, Spock said nothing at all. "Uh, Sauve," Oliver glanced back at his adopted son. "Would you mind taking Captain Kirk's measurements? I'm sure he'd appreciate getting out of those heavy clothes as soon as possible."

Sauve nodded before, for the first time since Jim and Spock had encountered him, beginning to speak. "In the essence of providing the captain the highest level of comfort possible, as he is a guest here on Vulcan, would it not be logical to provide him with some borrowed clothing while he waits for his own? I have taken note that he is nearly my size and it would only take me minutes to go to my room and fetch some." His voice was high, smooth, and Jim realized that it must be the sound of adolescence.

"Ah, good idea," Oliver agreed. "Why don't you go do that and I'll have Sahare take his measurements." Sauve nodded and, without another word, turned and vanished back out the door. Sahare, by contrast, went to her father's disarrayed desk and managed to easily locate a tape measure.

"I appreciate all the effort on my behalf," Jim started, feeling somewhat… pampered, "but you don't have to go to all that work. I'll be fine for a few hours." Sahare wasn't shy it would appear, coming right up to Jim and beginning to measure without even asking.

"Please, I'm happy to help," Oliver replied with a chuckle. "You'll be much more comfortable in some of Sauve's clothes, trust me. And you don't need to return them, they'll be easily replaced I assure." He rocked back on his heels, smiling. "It's my pleasure, I promise."

Jim smiled gratefully, raising his arms at Sahare's request.

"When you go about ordering, allow me to supply the credit," Spock interjected. "There is no logical reason why we cannot acquisition our own necessities, though your patronage is very much appreciated." Jim couldn't have said it better himself.

"Oh of course, of course," Oliver waved him off flippantly. "I am not under the illusion that you require my charity. Your are, after all, a Starfleet captain and commander. I'm sure you're quite financially well-endowed." True, they weren't the wealthiest people, far from it, but they certainly weren't poor. "So, what is a Starfleet captain such as yourself," he was looking at Jim, "doing here anyway?" He'd already asked the question once and been refused a real answer, but Jim supposed he couldn't blame him for being curious.

There certainly had to be a logical reason for him being there.

"You said you're here on personal business," Oliver continued. "And I don't mean to pry, but it's just so unheard of. I can probably count the number of humans allowed on Vulcan with only two hands." Sauve walked back in then, layers of clothes hung over his arm, but Sahare was still measuring so he stayed back and silently waited.

"Uh, well, I'm actually on shore leave," Jim replied, wondering quickly how he was supposed to get out of this. Spock had made it clear that t'hy'la were supposed to be kept secret. It would do his commander no good to go spouting about it to everyone they met. "And so is, uh, Spock here. He had expressed interest in visiting his parents so… here we are." He realized quite well that his reason explained Spock's presence and not his own, but he could always hope that no one would notice.

"I… see," Oliver wasn't that dim however. "And they just… let you come with him? I find that very hard to believe…" He was innocent in his inquiries, apparently not understanding the personal matter he was trespassing on.

"Yes, well," Jim cleared his throat. "I am a captain of a Starship and Spock is my commander. Diplomacy calls for a… civil attitude." Oliver still wasn't buying it, his confused expression making that quite obvious. "I mean, I _did_ request that I come with him," he kept attempting to find a believable reason. "Because, well, I've never… really seen… Vulcan…"

There was no diplomatic reason he should be there. He never should have mentioned that he'd come for personal reasons when he could have hidden behind the idea of secret Starfleet business.

"I see…" Oliver replied slowly. At first he seemed still muddled over the whole thing, his eyes flicking between the silent, unhelpful Spock, who was staring quite determinedly out the window, and Jim, who couldn't hide the flush that had crept up onto his cheeks.

Then, his expression abruptly clearing, he silently "ohed" in understanding, his eyebrows hovering high. "I _see_," Oliver clarified, Jim's face deepening a few shades. "Well yes, I suppose it would be expected that they allow you passage in your… situation." He'd figured it out and Jim was quickly realizing that without governmental ties, there _was_ no other reason he would be there. No doubt everyone they encountered was going to be able to see the truth. The thought didn't bode well with Jim, and he was quite certain it didn't with Spock either. His presence was a beacon symbolizing their personal life. It couldn't be avoided.

Wait, _personal _life? It hadn't been until recently that Jim had realized they had one.

"Well I hope that you're enjoying yourself. A few days and you'll at least _expect_ the heat, if not get used to it," Oliver chuckled. "Though I suppose you'd have to spend quite a while here to actually feel comfortable with the temperatures. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Just a few days," Jim replied, noticing that Sahare had finally finished as she backed away. He cast her a thankful smile, one that was oozing with charm, but she barely took a second's time to look back, which didn't help Jim's ego any (not that it needed help).

"Ah, of course. The captain of a Starship can't be gone for too long I suppose," Oliver had frowned and Jim felt his shoulders drop at the thought of his captaincy. Perhaps he _shouldn't_ be away for very long, but the fact of the matter was that someone else felt otherwise. "I'm actually on my way out as well. This time tomorrow I'll be on my way back to Earth."

"Oh yeah?" Jim questioned, only watching momentarily as Spock and Sahare went over to a computer. He assumed they must be ordering his clothes, however that process went. "Do you go to Earth often?"

"Nope," Oliver shook his head. "Haven't been there once since I moved to Vulcan." Jim raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment as the older man seemed more than happy to continue. "But it's time I contributed my research. The Science Division has requested that I do so and I'm not exactly at liberty to disobey orders, a fact I'm sure you can attest to." Jim nodded, comprehending Oliver's point far too well. "I'm supposed to be going to some huge base in… I don't know, somewhere in the States. I went to school in New York, graduated from the science academy there, so I don't really know much about the other ones." He acted like it was all a rather large bother. But Jim could understand. Star Command probably hadn't even considered the state of Oliver's work when calling him back, no doubt interrupting his plans. Spock tended to get a little testy too when Jim gave him orders in the middle of his research, though of course he'd never admit it.

"I know the four big ones in the States are in New York, San Francisco, Houston, and Des Moines."

Oliver snapped his finger, grinning as he pointed at Jim. "Des Moines!" he exclaimed. "That's where I'm going."

"Yeah, that's in Iowa," Jim replied. "When I went to university, the sciences were huge there and from what I've heard have only been growing since. I can't really attest to it myself, I was in engineering and when I joined Starfleet, I was stationed in San Francisco. But I remember all the science people I knew were constantly going back and forth from the university and the Starfleet Academy." Honestly, he hadn't spent a whole lot of time in college. It'd all been too… elementary. Not exciting enough either. Starfleet had served his purposes much better.

"Well you've lifted my spirits considerably then," Oliver sighed, still smiling only slightly. "Hopefully fitting back in with humanity won't be terribly difficult. I suppose we'll see how much vulcan lifestyle has rubbed off on me when I get back among humans." Spock and Sahare had finished on the computer, the two returning to listen in on the conversation.

"Well, as a native from Iowa, I can tell you that even humans sometimes have a difficult time dealing with the people there." As if the natives of the state could be classified as a different species. "You'd probably be better off staying away from the rural areas. Don't get much exposure if you take my meaning." Oliver laughed, understanding the reference. It was a joke really, as Jim himself was born a country boy, but a stereotype that always seemed to draw a laugh, even if Jim found it highly offensive when anyone other than himself said it.

"You said you're here visiting Commander Spock's parents, yes?" Oliver questioned and Jim nodded. "Are you leaving then to visit yours in the States? Will you be headed to Des Moines as well?" A logical conclusion to come to, or so Spock would probably say.

"Well, we will be yes, but we won't be staying. My parents live further out, so we'll be there and gone within the hour we arrive." Oliver nodded, his expression dropping somewhat.

"That's unfortunate," he replied. "I thought we might have another time to chat, but it looks like this will be our parting as well as our meeting." Jim nodded. After all, what were the odds they'd ever see each other again when considering the entirety of the Universe? Jim had left most of the people he'd met behind (a majority of whom with broken hearts).

"That statement is more accurate than you realize," Sauve finally interjected. "I believe you had a meeting you needed to get to." Glancing around, Oliver located a wall clock, swore under his breath, and look back to Jim.

"Sauve is quite right," he verified. "I must leave you now, how ever unfortunate that is." He approached Jim, hand held out for a shaking. "It was a pleasure and an honor to meet you Captain James T. Kirk." Jim smiled and reciprocated the gesture. "I hope you the best of luck in all your future endeavors, whatever those may be."

"You as well," Jim nodded.

"And you, Commander Spock," Oliver turned to him, holding up the Vulcan solute. "Live long and prosper." Spock held up his own hand once again and repeated the statement. "I've got to get to my meeting now," he turned back to Jim. "Sauve has the clothes for you of course. Again, great meeting you both and I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay." He looked about to turn, but paused to look back. "And don't let the attitude of this place get you down if you're planning to tour around," his eyes were on Jim. "Vulcan say a lot about humans being illogical and flawed, but they've got their own faults too." A warning, Jim realized, that perhaps he wasn't going to be received very well. "For instance, they're all rather fantastic pathological liars." He was smiling jovially again and waved as he headed towards the door. Jim did the same, waiting until the entrance to the office had slid closed before lowering it. Spock, on the other hand, had visibly furrowed his eyebrows at Oliver's last comment.

"Are you desiring to change into these?" Sauve held up the clothes he'd brought, offering them to Jim.

"Ah, yes, of course." He took the bundle from Sauve, quite shocked at how light they were in his arms. The fabric was full, nothing transparent or thin about it, yet Jim had the feeling, based on the feel, that it was extremely well ventilated. The dry air would pass right through.

"You may change in here, if that is adequate," Sauve continued. "I do not believe that Oliver would mind." Jim shrugged, supposing that was fine. Obviously, these vulcans trusted him not to mess around in their father's things. After all, where was the logic in that? What could he possibly want with the research strewn about the room? "We will leave you then," Sauve nodded, glancing to his half-sister who did the same before heading for the door. Neither one acknowledged Spock.

"I will be waiting outside," he explained. "Then we can discuss further what you are interested in seeing." Jim nodded, rejecting the urge to frown. He'd gotten so caught up with Oliver that he'd almost forgotten he was mad at Spock. But now that they were alone again, he was reminded full force.

But what was he to do about it?

Turning as the door slid closed behind Spock, he set the clothes down on Oliver's desk before slipping off his shirt. He did the same for his boots and pants, letting them fall to the floor before he began to unwrap the bundle Sauve had so willingly bestowed upon him.

The clothes were quite straight forward, made up of a single uniform white. The pants were longer and flared slightly at the bottom, created for going over boots as opposed to inside them, unlike Spock's. And as Jim slipped them on, he found that they were a little tight (Sauve was a little skinnier than him), but they fit nonetheless even if not in the way the vulcan had intended.

He'd been given two white shirts as well, one of which he assumed must go under the other. Picking up the less decorated of the two, he assumed that was the one he put on first before slipping it over his head. Like the pants, it was a bit snug, but much lighter and softer than his t-shirt, so he wasn't going to complain. It was long sleeved as well as a turtleneck, more conservative than Jim was used to, but he supposed he couldn't do anything about that.

The fabric was quite interesting actually. It fit almost like body armor, suctioning to his skin and acting like an additional layer of flesh. No heat got trapped between and he felt quite liberated in the clothing. He almost didn't want to put the other shirt on, but was worried that without it, he'd be dressed inappropriately. Who knew what vulcans defined as scandalous.

Grabbing the other shirt, he found that this one was actually a double-breasted button-up jacket type garb, though thinner than what humans might describe as such. Slipping it on, he quickly re-buttoned it before moving his shoulders in an attempt to stretch it slightly. The collar stood up shortly, a common style among Vulcans, and formed a "V" shaped neckline down his chest, leaving the turtleneck exposed. The back of it fell down past his rear, coming up and around until it sat just at the base of his hips on the front.

Light blue strips of fabric and accents added much needed color to the blindingly white attire.

Other than the overall tightness, Jim felt much better than he had in his t-shirt and jeans. The fabric was softer, smoother, than anything he'd ever worn, and his skin was actually able to _breathe_.

Quite relieving, to say the least.

Slipping his boots back on (he hadn't been given any footwear, an addition he hadn't really needed), he grabbed up his t-shirt and jeans, rolled them up under his arms, and exited the office.

Another vulcan had been added to the mix.

Sauve and Sahare were standing to the left of the office, Spock with them. They were conversing with another, this one looking to be about the same age as Jim and Spock. Approaching the group, he wasn't surprised that his presence drew all their attention and caused their previous discussion to come to an end.

"You must be Captain James T. Kirk," the new arrival stated as soon as he was within logical range of conversation. His features were thinner, weaker, than Spock's, his ears seeming to come out of his head at a rather unflattering angle, as if they attempted to become wings. "I am Terek."

Jim nodded in greeting.

"Terek and I attended school together at this very seminary," Spock explained. His eyes seemed to glide up and down Jim's form before reaching his face. He'd probably put the clothes on wrong, or so Jim thought with an air of exasperation. "He teaches here now."

"He is also my private instructor," Sauve interjected. Jim nodded again, trying to look interested. He honestly didn't know what to make of what they were telling him. So Spock had gone to school with this guy, that didn't make them friends, not in vulcan culture, and it certainly didn't give reason to act politely fake as humans did when meeting up with those they'd gone to high school with.

"Are you going to take a tour of the seminary?" Terek asked, his question directed at Jim. "If you are, I would be more than happy to escort you." Spock's eyebrow twitched at the suggestion, Jim, for once, not knowing what it meant.

"That is hardly necessary," Spock replied, Terek glancing up at him (because Spock was the tallest one). "I attended this seminary for the duration of my youth, I am perfectly capable of showing Captain Kirk the highlights of the establishment. Besides, it wouldn't be logical to take away from your time during teaching hours."

"That is true," Terek agreed, yet went on to object at the same time. "However, it has been a long time since you were here Commander Spock." The two were staring at each other quite severely now and it took Jim a moment to recognize the aura drifting between them. It wasn't the expected vulcan indifference.

No, there was definite hostility between them.

"Are you insinuating that my memory will not serve me correctly?" Spock asked quite civilly, Jim listening with raised eyebrows. To imply that his commander's ability to remember was in jeopardy was most certainly an insult. Vulcan prided themselves a great deal on their memory's and capacity to hold information.

"Of course not," Terek defended. "Just that it has been a long time since you last attended and that things may have changed in a way you could not know." They were trying to out-logic each other. "If I am correct, the last time you were in this building was when the council from the Science Academy was here to evaluate potential attendees. After the first day of interviewing, you never returned. That was nearly eighteen years and three months ago."

"Is it true," Sauve interrupted, his voice smooth as butter as attention turned to him, "that you are the only candidate to ever be accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy and then refuse to attend?" It was difficult for Jim to keep up with all the underlying meanings in what was said, but based on the way Spock's lips tightened, Sauve wasn't contributing in a positive light.

"That is true," Spock replied simply. "It came to my attention that my talents were better served for Starfleet. I am, after all, the son of an ambassador." The way Terek's eyebrows twitched seemed to imply that though this was true, he doubted the viability of such a claim.

"It is unfortunate that you were accepted before coming to this realization," Sauve continued. "Yours is the only rejection on the record of the Academy."

"Hardly," Terek interjected quickly. "The Vulcan Science Academy's record is based only on vulcan attendees. Because Commander Spock his half-human, his rejection doesn't, technically, affect the record at all."

Okay, now Jim was _positive_ that was an insult. Whoever this Terek guy was, he didn't like Spock. And that, in itself, was reason enough for Jim to hate his guts.

"In the technical sense of the idea, your evaluation is correct," Spock replied smoothly. "But I _was_ accepted, nonetheless." A comment that made it very apparent to Jim that Terek had not, in any way, been even remotely close to being considered for the academy.

He attempted to hide his grin and was successful with all but one corner of his lips.

"A fact that is hardly relevant when considering that you rejected the opportunity," Terek replied, his tone slightly sharper. "But let us not dwell on past statistics. I believe I was going to give you a tour of the seminary?" He looked to Jim, who was more than happy to let Spock reply for him.

"If you have the time," his second stated.

"It would not be logical for me to volunteer if I did not," Terek clarified. "Come, let us begin while the students are on their meal break." He turned, not even giving Spock the time to respond before walking away. Sauve followed after him, and Sahare after that. Apparently it was expected that Spock and Jim go as well, so they followed along last, side-by-side.

"This entrance," Terek was standing beside a large double door when they caught up, "leads to the central classroom. There are seven levels to this building, all descending from the lowest level general education to the highest here at the bottom. All the students reside in this single space, a difference from human teaching, where I have learned the students are split up into selected groups." Jim nodded in agreement, not sure if that was supposed to be a simple statement or an insult of some kind.

Turning towards the doors, they slid open as Terek entered, Jim's eyes widening as he and Spock followed.

It wasn't like any classroom he'd ever seen before.

The room was dark aside from the glow emanating from the hundreds of bowl shaped dips carved into the floor. Inside, Jim could see that high-tech computer screens had been paused wherever the student in each bowl had left off, the colors, formulas, and text beyond numerous and extensive. And the room stretched on into the shadows, larger than a lot of the lecture halls Jim had been forced to attend back at the Starfleet Academy.

"Our teaching method is very self-motivated," Terek explained as they walked down a thin gap between the dips. "Our students come in and their assignments are already programmed into the computer. We, the teachers, are above and offer assistance to our designated section when it is requested." So they really didn't do very much then? Jim didn't voice his question out loud. "This particular room is where our final year students attend, the most advanced teachings expected in the vulcan general education, many of which match human college graduate level classes in surmised difficulty, if not surpassing them."

"Really?" Jim tried not to sound overly annoyed by the comparison. "That's quite impressive." Abruptly, he was struck by an incredible idea, at least as far as Jim Kirk standards. Before he knew it, his brain was rolling into the prospect. "How exactly does it work?"

"The student is presented with what they are expected to learn through a visual, audible, and hands-on simulation. They then go on to practice each problem presented to them for the remainder of the morning, exploring all objectives and variables conceivable and memorizing, learning, and comprehending as many as possible. After they return from their meal break, they are then tested and retested on the subject matter until school is let out. At this point, the computer totals and presents the student with their overall score before leaving a record for us, the instructors, in evaluate. We then reprogram the system to each students needs so that when they come back in the morning, they may begin where is necessary."

"I see," Jim paused to stare down into one of the dips curiously before glancing back up at the group. "Your techniques are very different from humans," he stated the obvious. "No doubt because of your superior mental capacities?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly, ignoring the way Spock's own brow twitched. Jim never admitted that vulcan were smarter. More logical, sure, but more intelligent? Never.

"Of course," Terek easily agreed. Jim nodded, glancing back down into the bowl in an overly thoughtful manner.

"Excuse me if I'm being, well, rude in asking," which he wasn't because vulcan took no offense, but he was pretending quite well not to know that, "but would you mind if I tried it?" He gestured down into the bowl. "Not very many humans have the pleasure to be in such a place and I don't think I could forgive myself if I didn't take full advantage."

Terek didn't reply right away, most likely surprised by such a request, and Jim waited for him to come to a logical conclusion on the matter.

"I suppose indulging your human curiosities would cause no harm," Terek slowly started and Jim smiled wider. "If you would descend the stairs down into the chamber, I will program the computer to our fourth level learning stage, which is just slightly more advanced than what is expected of humans upon graduating their regulated four years of undergraduate education."

"What level is it on right now?" Jim asked curiously as he made his way down the stairs.

"Level seven," Terek replied above his head. "Seven of the eight possible levels." He had pulled a tablet out of his jacket, the circular projection now surrounding Jim fizzing out as it was quickly reprogramed into something else.

"Put it on level eight," Jim ordered. He felt the vulcans above his head stiffen, apparently considering his latest request even more carefully than the first one.

"That is a highly illogical request," Terek stated after a few seconds. "Most vulcan do not leave the seminary capable of completing a level eight evaluation."

"Spock," Jim glanced up at his commander, who was staring down at him with his hands held behind his back. "What level did you graduate at?"

"Level eight Captain," he verified simply, Jim's grin widening even further. "Level eight, section twenty-seven, test nine to be more precise." Jim, rolling his shoulders, turned back to face the computer.

"I'd like to take the same exam," he stated.

"Without previous study, it is highly unlikely that you will be able to contribute in such an exam," Terek still objected and Jim was sensing an extreme bias towards humans about his attitude. "You will not gain any knowledge about our ways if you cannot even participate."

"Perhaps," Jim didn't bother looking up at the vulcan as he spoke, "but I'm an illogical human so just… humor me." Momentary silence before he once again garnered a response.

"If you are that determined," Terek's voice was tighter. "Here is the information presented on test 8-27-9." The computer screen flickered into movement, Jim immediately reaching out to activate the different pieces of information. As he did, a soothing, neutral voice began speaking, his eyes scouring all the information he could expose as his ears tuned in and devoured as much as he could hear.

At the same time however, he made sure to keep a curiously investigative expression to his face. He flicked through the information as someone who had absolutely no comprehension would, as if he was testing the technical prowess of the computer and the idea itself rather than attempting to take in the actual material.

Paragraphs of information appeared before his eyes, formulas, equations, vulcan history, geology, biology, beliefs, theories, facts, it all bombarded him at the pace his fingers could dance around the projection. He marveled at the speed the information could be delivered, how well the voice increased in rapidity in tandem with the tempo he was setting. Colors and screens, pictures and videos, they layered and layered all around him until, finally, there was nothing left to open.

The fading of the soothingly neutral voice, then-

Silence.

"Quite impressive," Jim muttered, fully aware that though he spoke the truth, the vulcan standing behind him were not equally as impressed with _him_. No doubt he'd looked like a child playing with a program he had absolutely no idea how to use.

"Now that you have… perused through the material," Terek's voice was even colder than before, "were you interested in taking the actual test or have your curiosities been serviced?"

"No, no, no," Jim laughed, sounding quite the opposite of serious. "I'll take the test. Let's see everything your methods have to offer." He'd just scanned through the lesson a typical vulcan student would spend hours studying before taking the test. No doubt none of them were considering he had any chance of success.

Maybe even Spock, who was constantly doubting his human abilities.

"As you wish," Terek replied before activating the test. Quite suddenly, everything on the screen vanished, revealing nothing. "The test is based not only on correct answers, but the speed at which you can answer them, if you choose to do so." Did they expect him to just go through the test without saying anything at all?

Probably.

"Let me know when you're ready to begin."

"Anytime," Jim made perfectly clear, his charming grin forever present.

Within the moment, he was being bombarded by questions.

And he answered them with both speed and grace.

Every. Single. One.

By the time the test was over, he was out of breath, but only because he'd pushed himself to get it done as fast as possible. And it wasn't until the heartbeat in his ears, the adrenaline, had died down, that he noticed the silence. Closing his eyes for only a moment, to gather his wits, he then turned towards the stairs and climbed back up onto the level. It was only then, when he was on equal ground, that he met the stares of the vulcans casting judgment upon him.

He cracked an arrogant smile. "So how'd I do?"

The sound of his voice seemed to spur the obviously shocked Terek into action. Sauve as well twitched, only Spock and Sahare seeming unfazed. However, Jim could tell by the height of Spock's eyebrows that he too had been taken aback by the results.

"You missed only two," Terek verified, Jim furrowing his brows in disbelief. He didn't comment however, rather certain he'd gotten every single answer correct.

"Those inaccuracies could be attributed to the computers inability to process and comprehend all answers given," Spock cut in, having seen Jim's aghast response to the tally. "The Captain was answering at a pace that is not typically expected out of students." Jim smiled again.

"True, but to rush is illogical," Terek replied, apparently having regained his composure. Sauve, however, was staring at Jim rather pointedly, a fact over which the Starfleet captain found himself increasingly uncomfortable. There was something hungry about the young vulcans expression. "Though I suppose such actions can be expected of humans."

"Right…" So despite the fact that he'd totally aced their test, he still wasn't good enough. Would nothing please them or was his human status forever to dampen his reputation? He understood the validity of Oliver's warning now. "I still did well."

"Yes, surprisingly well," Terek verified. "Your intelligence is quite above average for a human."

"'_Quite_?'" Now Jim was starting to lose his patience. He'd answered those questions so well that their computer hadn't even been able to keep up. And they couldn't challenge his knowledge as previous study. Most of the test had consisted of only things vulcan would learn, respectively coming from the info he'd been provided before hand. He was rather certain he'd done better than everyone who'd taken the same test.

Including Spock.

"I don't think you're giving me, or humans in general, enough credit," Jim challenged, his arms crossing calmly over his chest.

"I disagree," Terek stared directly at him. "Your abilities are impressive for a human, but not to be counted as phenomenal by vulcan standards." He stared back down at his tablet, apparently thinking that Jim was going to accept his attitude without a fight.

"And what does that mean?"

"It means," Terek glanced up at him after a pause, "that the test you just commenced in, though advanced for its level, is still used in general education. It is an exam we give to those still in intermediate school. To vulcan adolescents." Ah, so there was the loophole.

"Right…" Jim was growing more and more displeased by the second. "Then I'd like to participate in a more advanced test." Yes, he was losing his composure, slowly but surely, but this vulcan know-it-all was fraying his nerves. "A test used in advanced education." Terek had raised his eyebrows in what Jim decided was skepticism.

"I do not have access to such an exam," Terek explained. "And even if I did, I doubt you would be capable. It is simply impossible for a human mind to wrap itself around the complex ideas our most intellectually gifted can ascertain." Jim did gape then. Didn't this Terek guy have any sort of diplomacy? He was talking to a Starfleet captain for crying out loud. A little decorum should be expected.

"That assumption has never been tested," Spock interjected quickly, his tone sharp and penetrating. "To presume such to be fact is illogical without a basis of proof. No human has ever attempted the feat, so it cannot be assumed to be impossible. Rather, is should be assumed to be completely within the bounds of possible." Jim snapped his mouth shut, thankful to Spock's annoying logic for the first time that whole day.

"Then our logics differ Commander Spock," Terek countered. "Humans have been provided every tool needed to reach the intellectual heights that the vulcan have, yet they have not. If it is not their mental capacities that limit them, then it is their lack of discipline and dedication that halts their progress. Either way, they have shown to be incapable of reaching such heights." He looked to Jim. "This one displays potential and a rather extraordinary ability to absorb information, but that is all."

"For notoriously being labeled as a race that hardly leaves your home planet, you seem to think you know a whole lot about a people I'm sure you've barely ever affiliated with," Jim snapped, irritation sizzling up into his tone.

"The facts of the matter do not revolve around my opinions," Terek replied. "I don't have to be on a personal level with anyone to be given clean proofs of everything they have been unable to accomplish."

"And how about everything vulcans have been unable to accomplish?" Jim rebuked. "Last I checked, the majority of the members in the United Federation of Planets joined and became diplomatic at the prompting of humans."

"Vulcan were the among the founders of the modern United Federation of Planets," Terek's voice cut in quickly.

"Yes, the perfect example of a race that knows how to prompt the idea, but doesn't have any idea how to follow through."

"I fail to see how such open-ended accusations can be attributed to logical intelligence."

"It's one and the same to me," Jim replied. "You vulcan can be as scientifically logical as you want, but that doesn't dictate intelligence. And it certainly doesn't contribute to the logic necessary in handling issues of a diplomatic nature."

"I beg to differ," Terek challenged.

"Then how about you look to the statistics evaluating vulcan ability to command an exploratory vessel and tell me what you find. I guarantee that your logic doesn't grant you very many command positions, let alone captaincies." Spock was one of the few exceptions. There _were_ vulcan captains and commanders, even entire federation ships populated by only them, but the ratio of them to humans was hardly comparable.

"Your views and expectations are very close-minded," Terek decided.

"No, I believe yours are," Jim stated strictly. "In a world where our ability to get along with other civilizations accounts for our survival and way of life, diplomatic intelligence is key, a forte that vulcan are not always overly blessed with."

"Your ideas of our way of life are skewed," Terek wasn't going to back down and apparently was under the impression that eventually Jim would. "Vulcan seek logic out of the need for solace in the face of illogic and emotion, facets that most other races possess. You fail to understand those key principles and are therefore not to be expected or capable of competing at our level."

"Your _level_?" Jim couldn't even begin to describe his disgust. "Your 'level' is a one-sided view of-"

"So I suggest that because you cannot comprehend, you do us all a service and not comment on the subject," Terek interrupted, Jim huffing. It was quite apparent however that Terek was rather irritated with Jim as well, despite how he attempted to keep such feelings at bay. "Your illogical human emotions on the subject are not welcome and will not be given any merit." He snapped his eyes to Spock. "Vulcan do not feel offense, but this human is failing to respect our culture and way of life," he sounded almost scolding. "In bringing him here, you ensured his good behavior."

"_What_?" the outrage pumping through Jim's veins was practically boiling. "I am not some kind of 'pet' to be contr-"

"I also came expecting respect from my peers," Spock's voice carried over Jim's, cutting him off. Jim had never heard him sound quite so angry. The chilliness of his tone was steely to the point of a blade. "A quality that you above all have failed to exhibit. Your logic should have dictated that indulging in such an argument would result as it has when considering the variables and that remaining silent would have been in your best interests. Diplomacy _was_ necessary and you have failed in every facet."

"He is _your_ t'hy'la!" Terek raised his voice considerably, his emotions breaking through as his breathing came sharply through his nose. Spock's eyes had widened considerably at the blatant reference, Jim quickly realizing that bringing up the "t'h" word in public was a huge social disrespect. "That is the reason he was allowed here and he is therefore _your_ responsibility. He is not here as a diplomat or a Starfleet captain, but as an extension of _you_. He is, therefore, expected to treat our culture and way of life with high esteem and respect, just as any _vulcan_ would. Do not make the rest of us put up with his illogical rampaging because you could not control your _human_ emotions enough to consider the consequences of forming shameful feelings for a human.

"He is part of you and his lack of respect for our culture displays his lack of respect for you, and therefore your lack of respect for yourself," Terek's voice had long since calmed, the room and everyone in it, even those on the far sides, silent. "Your lack of emotional control is unaccountable. Any vulcan that had chosen a t'hy'la such as this would have had enough logic to know he couldn't be trusted to behave accordingly. Your inability to realize this contributes to your weakness." Terek paused, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "But I suppose that should have been expected," he continued unhindered. "You are, after all, a _half_-breed."

And as simply as that, Terek turned on his heel and walked away, vanishing into the darkness.

Sauve and Sahare looked after him, saying nothing, and Spock only stood straighter, staring for a moment longer before he too spun around and began walking away, only in the opposite direction that Terek had retreated.

Somewhat frazzled now at how the argument had been resolved, Jim stumbled closely after Spock, conscious of the fact that nearly every single person in the room was staring at them.

They left the darkness of the central room, Spock continuing to retreat down the hall with Jim at his heels. And when he finally did come to a halt beside some windows, sunlight shining brightly through, Jim was so taken off guard that he ran right into him.

Spock barely moved of course.

"Okay, so we're stopping now," Jim muttered as he took a step back, righting himself before rounding on Spock's stoic figure to get a better look at his face. His eyes were closed, his breathing forcefully even. He was most likely putting vast amounts of self-control into containing whatever emotions were surging through him.

Jim sighed.

"Well that particular vulcan was rather unpleasant," he stated quietly, hoping to pull Spock out of his trance. "Some of the things he said were-"

"From the standpoint of his logic and the logic of vulcans, all his points held merit," Spock interrupted. Jim furrowed his eyebrows then, not quite comprehending what he was hearing. "He should not have commenced in arguing to begin with, but what he had to say was accurate, at least as far as the logic is concerned."

"Are you _agreeing_ with him?" Jim asked, his irritation easily resurfacing.

"I am merely acknowledging the logic behind his words," Spock replied, playing that logical neutral zone that had a tendency to drive Jim insane. Maybe he liked being insane.

"Did you hear what he said? At all?" Jim tried to keep his voice down, aware that there were more and more vulcan filing in, most of them younger. Classes must be picking back up. "The things he said about you? About me? He had no right to-"

"His reasons were viable," Spock continued to preach, his tone both dead and forced to Jim's ears. "You are not here as a member of Starfleet, you are here as an attachment to me."

"So I'm supposed to just remain silent and be good and take everything he said without putting up a fight? Just roll over and agree that I'm an incompetent human and-"

"You are here as my t'hy'la, as my other half," Spock explained strictly. "It is expected that you respect my beliefs and way of life. That you accept and approve of them." Jim's lips were sealed, the words "other half" still ringing in his ears. "It has become apparent, however, that you do not respect the vulcan lifestyle if your blatant disapproval says anything on the matter."

"What?" Jim furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, his patience beyond frayed. "Spock, you know that's not true. I said what I said because of what he was saying about humans, not because I don't approve of you and your lifest-"

"If you did respect it, then you would have remained silent," Spock interjected, Jim completely taken aback by what he'd said. Silence? Was he to be oppressed now for being a human?

"You're joking, right?" No, he wasn't, and Jim knew that. "I don't know what time period you think this is, but I'm not about to be objectified and-"

"You should have remained silent out of your respect for me," Spock stated. "Because it would have been more logical to be the 'bigger person,' as humans seem to express the notion." Jim did have to admit that he wasn't always good at being the bigger person. Never had been. "Do you…" Spock's voice lowered then. "Do you despise vulcan ways that much?"

"What?" Jim shook his head. "No Spock, I don't… I don't have any problems with vulcans. I just don't appreciate vulcans that have a problem with me because I'm a human, a fact of my birth that I can't exactly do anything about." He took a deep breath. "Spock, everything I said in there? You're the exception to all that. Maybe I don't approve of everything vulcans do, but I always support you."

"I am half human."

"You're Spock," Jim made perfectly clear. "Just Spock. And I'm just Jim. That's it. These labels that people have, prejudices, they're old fashioned and primitive. Just because I'm a human, and because you're part of that, it doesn't make you or I inferior. These ideas have been repeated in history over and over and over." He paused for only a moment. "I'm sorry if I acted inappropriately, I didn't know. I'm kind of winging this as I go."

"You could not have known any better," Spock replied, his statement bristling Jim's hair slightly, but he tried to keep in check. "I have expected too much of you in a culture you know nothing about."

"Well, if you explained it to me," Jim replied, his arms crossing over his chest. "Spock, half our problems lately have been because you won't communicate with me." Maybe they were finally getting to the source of the problem. "You've been avoiding me for the past few days. And don't deny it, we both know it's true." Spock's lips tightened slightly. "Why?"

"I have not… been doing it purposefully," Spock started. "I have been… considering the choice I made. And in doing so, unintentionally been distant."

"What choice?" Jim asked, his heart skipping a beat.

"The choice I made when making you my… t'hy'la," he replied, his eyes darting to the floor. "I should have discussed it with you before assuming that, because of a single claim you made during a distressing time, you felt the same way." The "closer than anyone else in the universe" comment. "I should have known to consider the human variables. It was illogical not to do so. I was placing you in the light of a vulcan position, expecting more, perhaps, than you can deliver."

"Wait, I don't… I don't understand," Jim stuttered, his heart picking up to a panicked pace. "Are you…?" What? Breaking up with him? That hardly seemed like the plausible response.

"I am merely inferring that perhaps your human upbringing clashing with my vulcan heritage makes the notion incompatible."

"Uh, well, your parents situation is proof enough that you're wrong," Jim replied quickly, trying to gather his defenses as fast as possible.

"My parents are entirely different," Spock explained. "My mother embraced vulcan culture as much as her human tendencies allow. You do not display equal vigor to do so, and I cannot expect that of you. You _are_ human and there is nothing that anyone can do about that."

"Why does this always come back to me being a human?" Jim snapped, quite tired of hearing about it. "You know what Spock," he sighed, composing his emotions to the best of his ability. "This isn't about my human nature or your Vulcan nature, it's about stubbornness." Spock furrowed his eyebrows. "You just said that when I'm here, on Vulcan, you expect me to act vulcan. At least to a certain extent. And now that I know that, I'll try to adjust to the best of my ability," by not being so combative for one, "but this isn't a one-sided situation. You can't expect me to change in order to make this work if you're not going to put forth the same effort."

"I do not want you to change," Spock wasn't comprehending.

"Not… that way," Jim rubbed his temples, completely ignoring the stares they garnered from the students walking by. "I just mean… if you want us to be… t'hy'la, and you want me to be more understanding of vulcan culture, then you have to be more understanding of _my_ culture."

"I do understand your culture," Spock defended. "I am with humans constantly, I-"

"Not in the sense of ignorance Spock," Jim felt hopeless talking to his commander sometimes. "I just mean that… that you can't ignore me if you're confused. You can't avoid me if you're upset. You have to… communicate with me, like a… human does."

"But I am a vulcan."

"I know Spock, but _I'm_ a human," he placed his hand on his chest. "I'm not saying don't live by your vulcan rules or whatever, but that you… have to tell me… how you're feeling." He really didn't know any other way, any more basic term, to say what he was trying to say.

"Vulcan pride ourselves on not feeling emotion, on containing it. I do not understand what you are ask-"

"Yes you do," Jim stated firmly. "You understand what I'm saying. You're just too damn stubborn to accept it." Jim took a deep, much needed breath. "Your mother isn't as accepting as you think she is, trust me. She feels just as much as I do and Sarek knows that, yet they manage to function."

"My parents are-"

"Not as different as you think," Jim felt his shoulders slump, his emotions so exhausted that he couldn't even put forth the effort to care anymore. It was like the sentiments had all just slipped away and, for the first time ever, he couldn't feel anything. "I can't make you understand Spock, you have to want to." He took a couple steps backwards, Spock watching him with furrowed brows. "You know," Jim smiled bitterly, "Oliver was right. Vulcan are _fantastic_ liars."

Spock still stared at him with that puzzled look and Jim just… couldn't handle it.

Turning around, he walked away, unable to even look back.

**ooooooooooooo**

**A/N:** Woo, that was a long chapter. We met some new characters, some good, some bad, and Spock and Jim totally and utterly failed to communicate at all. This whole vacation has thrown off their rhythm it would appear, forcing them to see things in ways they might not have before.

I know there wasn't a whole ton of personal interaction between Spock and Jim in this chapter, but I've set it up for some good stuff next chapter, so I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.

Please, PLEASE, tell me what you think and leave a review. This is my first Star Trek fanfiction and your feedback is very much appreciated. R&R!


	4. Chapter 4: Cultural Vices

**The Psychology of You**

_Chapter 4: Cultural Vices_

At least vulcans were logical enough to have public means of transportation.

Bestowing the desired amount of credit to the driver that had gone to the service of bringing Jim back to the home of Amanda and Sarek, he then turned and headed up the stony path that led to the house. And for the first time since arriving on Vulcan, he wasn't out of breath, nor did the beating sun burn his skin. The clothes he'd gotten from Sauve (who's character Jim still wasn't totally sold on) provided incredible protection against the heat as well as the sun's devastating rays. Unbelievable how the right clothes could make such a difference. That, and the tri-ox compound.

Reaching the top of the incline, he kept his eyes low as he approached the front entrance to the house. Yet as he considered entering, he was forced to pause. Amanda was inside, of that he was certain. She'd no doubt question him about Spock's absence. About the fact that Jim had abandoned him in the city.

He had no desire to explain.

Spotting a stone bench beneath an awning attached to the house, he hunkered over to it before slamming his body down into sitting. Dropping his t-shirt and jeans to the ground, he shoved his elbows into his knees before placing his head in his hands.

What was he going to do about Spock?

This never happened to him, a total and complete feeling of helplessness. Especially concerning such… intimate relationships. Jim wasn't afraid to admit that his previous history with romantic situations was somewhat loose. Not to say he was in a romantic relationship with Spock, because he _wasn't_, but the arguments they'd been indulging in as of late seemed more comparable to such than any of his other friendships.

Things between them had just been so difficult lately. Which, as far as Jim's past would show, meant it was about time he headed for the nearest exit. That was his default as far as deeper associations. He didn't stick around if things grew complicated, serious, prolonged. Charming his way to the hearts of women had been a skill of his since his elementary years. And men too, if they were challenging enough. That was a thing he'd noticed growing up, how much easier men were than women. If a man had been interested, odds were he was willing to go a round without question. They didn't provide chase, and that was why Jim had left so many more broken hearted women than he had men. He lost interest in the men because those available to him had offered themselves up on silver platters, whereas the women had understood the game. A game that, for some reason, they'd forget the rules to weeks, days later. They'd begin to become attached, to expect more, to _love_.

Jim didn't do love, so that was when he'd known it was time to go. Perhaps, at some points in his life, he'd convinced himself that maybe he was in love, but then he'd look back and see that it wasn't the someone he'd loved, but the situation in which he'd found them. In the implausibility of their relationship. It was thrilling to let those feelings run rampant when he'd known that, in the end, it'd have to be over.

To fall for someone from another civilization, another timeline, another impossibility.

And then there was Spock.

Spock, who was the most impossible choice. If the game was chase, then his commander had been miles ahead before he'd even considered the notion of going after him.

But it was different with Spock. Jim never got involved with his friends. Bones was his best friend in the whole world and never had he even humored the idea. And then he'd met Spock, who'd he'd grown close to just as well, a close _friend_.

He couldn't remember when the line had been crossed and he'd begun to fall. But he'd been tumbling for some time when it had finally hit him, how different his feelings were for Spock than for Bones, or Scotty, or Sulu or Chekov. Or Uhura even, who was one of his closest female friends (he didn't have very many since only a select few could withstand his charm). Something had changed and suddenly he'd found himself pursuing the impossible.

Because that was what Spock was. He was a vulcan. He was, in essence, that which could never be caught. And that which Jim could never escape. Because of his beliefs, his discipline and upbringing, there was absolutely no logic in him choosing to have a romantic relationship with his captain. Yet Jim had considered it over and over, despite that were he to finally get Spock's attention, there was no way he'd be able to cut himself loose later. Spock was his commander, his first officer, and an irreplaceable part of the Enterprise, which was Jim's life and purpose.

To leave Spock would be to leave his ship and that… that was suicide for Jim.

It was because of these considerations that he'd remained silent and immobile as far as his attraction to his first officer. Why he'd gone in pursuit of others, attempting to go on as he always had.

But now… now he was Spock's t'hy'la.

_T'hy'la. _

What did that even _mean_?

Leaning up, Jim sighed, his head falling against the wall of the house.

Spock had plenty of human friends, whether he wanted them or not, but as far as the vulcan definition, he had only one, and he'd bestowed that honor on Jim. To be Spock's closest friend, his best friend, his brother, his _other half_. Well, to be quite frank, Jim hadn't even seen the label coming.

He'd realized that what was between him and Spock was different than what his second held with anyone else. That Jim _was_ his closest friend, but… but not that such a thing meant so much to a vulcan. Yet here he was, on that very planet with his first officer's family and history and everything. He'd been welcomed because of his decided status with his commander, a prospect he still didn't totally understand.

But he did know one thing above all else. He knew that the thought of it all, no matter how confusing, sent butterflies fluttering all over inside him. Because, due to this entire… _thing_ that had happened, he now had the proof that Spock singled him out, that their relationship, to a certain degree, was acknowledged. Never, outside his wildest dreams, had Jim imagined such a thing to be possible.

Yet now that his deepest desire was spelled out with potential before him, he was terrified.

No, he couldn't think that way, consider the insane prospects. Spock had made him his t'hy'la. A friend. A brother.

But not a lover.

Yet it fell within the definition, so it was… plausible…

No. Never. Nope. It was illogical and crazy and just… not going to happen. The fact that Spock had granted him the privilege of being his closest friend was huge in and of itself, beyond any kind of expectations. To go deeper was to sully it, to ruin it with Jim's human hopes.

He wanted it, but he was scared of it. Scared that if he got it, he wouldn't know what to do with it; that he'd run from it like he had every other time. Yet at the same consideration, if he got "it," maybe he'd finally _get it_. If he could have Spock, in every way imaginable, all to himself… perhaps that was _it_.

Him and Spock, the Enterprise. Wasn't that Jim's everything?

Yet it seemed it was all slipping through his fingers. He was on the verge of losing his captaincy, his ship, his sanity by the court of law. Everyone he knew, his friends and crew. And now everything between him and Spock was a mess.

His worst nightmares… they seemed to be creeping up into reality and he felt helpless to stop them.

He had to do _something_… anything…

"What in the universe are you doing out here all by yourself?" Nearly jumping out of his skin, Jim twitched his head around and into the sun, spotting Amanda coming around the back of the house. She held a basket in her hands, which looked to be full, and was staring at her guest in both confusion and concern. "Are you alright?"

"Er, yeah, I'm fine," Jim replied somewhat awkwardly as Amanda quickly made her way up next to him. "Just out here… thinking…" he admitted, supposing there was no other explanation he could give.

"Where's Spock? I didn't expect you two back this early." She still looked worried and Jim sighed. He couldn't very well lie his way out of this one. Maybe he'd just have to make do with tip-toing around the subject.

"Me either," he verified. "Spock's probably in the city still… somewhere." Probably still puzzled and resigned to the fact that he'd never comprehend Jim's overly complex human emotions.

"Oh…" Amanda replied, her eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully. Setting her basket down beside the bench, which Jim noted was full of some new kind of native fruit, she slowly lowered herself down beside him before turning her intense gaze to his.

Yes, Spock did indeed have his mother's eyes.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone quieter. "How did you get back?" She was fully aware that now the subject had become sensitive, that she had to tread lightly if she wanted to get any semblance of the truth.

"I… got a cab," Jim replied, supposing that was the only way he could describe his return trip. Amanda nodded, understanding, and continued to stare at him, wanting further answers. "Spock and I… had a disagreement…" he admitted, his own gaze falling to the ground somewhat sheepishly.

"May I ask what about?" Amanda's expression softened then, her eyebrows rising inquiringly. She'd become a mother, Jim realized, and was using her super powers on him. Well, he was Captain James T. Kirk and was certainly _not_ going to give in to such potent an attitude.

"It's not… a big deal," Jim shrugged, Amanda crossing her arms skeptically. "We just had a fight and I left, nothing serious." He wanted to say "happens all the time," but Spock was a vulcan, so that was highly unlikely. And it was then that he realized the fact that they'd fought to the point of separation was a rather huge clue to much, _much_ bigger problems.

He sighed.

Amanda paused, silence ringing supreme for a few seconds before she took a deep breath and spoke. "You know Jim," she glanced out over the horizon, her counterpart staring up at her as she did. "I'm not clueless to Spock's insensitivity. He is my son after all and I take no offense to the fact that he can do more harm than good sometimes with his total logic." Jim's eyes dropped again to the ground as Amanda returned her attention to him. "I married a vulcan, I know quite a bit about them at this point," she smiled, her voice thrumming to a murmur. "Tell me what happened and maybe I'll be able to help."

Jim didn't reply right away, considering the option. He'd never talked to anyone about Spock before, about anything more than the image they portrayed on a daily basis. Yet as he finally found the nerve to catch Amanda's eye, he saw something there he hadn't at all expected.

He didn't have to tell her because she… she already knew.

So much for his resolve.

"I don't know what happened," Jim shook his head, allowing a somewhat defeated sigh to escape his lips. Only somewhat however - he didn't believe in no-win scenarios, which was why he tried constantly to push back on his feelings for Spock. "Or even when it started." Slowly, tone level, he explained what had happened at the seminary, how he'd argued with Terek and how Spock had later responded.

And how he'd walked out.

Amanda, by the end of it, didn't seem surprised in the least, her lips pursed thoughtfully.

"I just… I don't know what to do," Jim admitted. "It's like he wants me to be something I'm not, or that he doesn't approve of what I am, but can't help that he wants to be around me anyway. It's so… confusing."

"I understand how you feel Jim," Amanda stated, the two catching each other's eyes again. "And I think there are some things about Spock that you should know. Perhaps then you'll be able to… understand why he acts the way he does." All ears now, Jim straightened slightly. Learn something about Spock? He was always up for that.

"My son is both a human and a vulcan," Amanda started, her tone somewhat sad. "Sarek and I are grateful for that, beyond so. He is capable of understanding our two very different races to a degree that not many can. But with that good, there is also bad."

"He's ashamed of his human traits…" Jim muttered.

"No," Amanda shook her head, smiling only a little when her companion glanced up with questioning brows. "He is proud of both, but he grew up on Vulcan, among vulcan teachings. He decided to pursue the vulcan way of life because it… came easier to him. He is not ashamed of being human, he is… torn by it. And to a certain degree I think he sees it as a weakness.

"You have to understand that though vulcan are raised to logic, to purge emotion, they are not born without the ability to be cruel, or to hate, or be without prejudice." She paused to take a deep breath. "When Spock was growing up, he was learning to be vulcan, just as his peers were. They bullied him… they bullied him horribly."

Jim knew that. Amanda had mentioned it once before during the short visit she'd had upon the Enterprise.

"They impressed upon him that being human was a bad thing, that he was somehow unfortunate for being so. And I know they said things about me, about Sarek. He'd come home, unable to control his anger, his confusion, and he'd… he'd just cry and cry and…" Jim listened silently, unable to get the image of Spock, as a child, with tears streaming down his cheeks out of his head.

"I think he made it a goal to somehow overcome his human 'weaknesses,' to prove that he could be just as vulcan as any of his classmates," Amanda smiled bitterly. "Not to be ashamed, but to be equal.

"I don't agree with what you claim he's said today, but I can understand why he said what he did about your behavior. He was accused of allowing his human 'weakness' to sway him, and that initiated his defensiveness over it. His logic came to the forefront as a shield, and unfortunately you were on the receiving end. I'm sure it didn't help that Terek was… one of his biggest antagonists during his youth."

Well, Jim supposed that was where the animosity had come from.

"Jim, you have to remember that Spock isn't as unfeeling as he acts," Amanda placed her hand on Jim's, which had been sitting on the bench beside his leg. "If Terek really said those things, then I'm sure some part of Spock was… extremely hurt. And in trying to suppress that, he became defensive. He was trying to protect himself. Not from you, but from the caprice and judgment of everyone else."

"Great," Jim stated bitterly. "Then I _really_ made him feel horrible." If Spock had just been trying to protect himself, then he'd been acting as vulcan as he possibly could. At which point, Jim had accused him of being, well, unreasonably so. As if he didn't approve. So now his peers didn't approve of him, and his closest friend didn't either.

"I wouldn't stress about it too much," Amanda assured, apparently finding some kind of motherly humor in his comment. "You're his t'hy'la," there was that _word_ again. "He'll forgive you, even if you don't feel like you did anything inherently wrong."

"But what if he doesn't?" Jim cut in quickly, Amanda frowning. "He told me he'd been considering that maybe he shouldn't have made me his… whatever," he suppressed a blush. "That he'd acted 'rashly' or something. What if he decides that was right and…"

"You're worrying over nothing," Amanda assured, patting his hand before replacing it in her lap. "Vulcan think these things over for far too long to make the wrong decision. He might have doubts now, but that's only because he hasn't grasped the full definition of what you mean to him." Jim cocked an eyebrow. "He made you his t'hy'la because he feels something for you, so it was logical." No, he couldn't stop the blushing that time. "But now that he's accepted that, he has to, eventually, _explore_ those feelings."

"What… are you talking about?" Jim asked, his heart jolting as his hair pricked defensively.

"I'm saying," she continued, "that because you're a human, he can't be content to simply accept his feelings, he'll be forced to act on them because you won't put up for anything less." Jim still wasn't comprehending and Amanda sighed in mock exasperation, as if she knew something he didn't and it was totally obvious. "You have to understand that vulcan have an ingrained mental ability to compartmentalize. If they are not prompted to consider their feelings, then they think 'oh, I feel this, so lets put it here in this box and close it away.'" Jim smiled at her interpretation. "However, if they find themselves constantly shoving feelings into the same box, they do eventually realize that perhaps they should meditate on it. This is how Spock decided you were his t'hy'la, and, generally speaking, that's the farthest most vulcan would go. Whether it's physical attraction, friendly attraction, brotherly feelings, that's how they deal with it. And if their logic dictates that they should act because of those boxed up emotions, then they do so not out of want but out of necessity."

Which was how t'hy'la lovers functioned, Jim realized. They compartmentalized their emotions by acting on their desires, but that didn't mean they understood the feeling. It was simply a coping mechanism.

"It took me quite a while to get Sarek to realize he loved me and that he _wanted_ to do so," Amanda continued to explain. "Even if he won't admit it to anyone else."

"Admit it?" Jim questioned dubiously.

"Well yes," Amanda agreed simply. "The only time a vulcan will admit their feelings to themselves is in the safety and controlled environment of their meditation, which is also where the subsequently bottle them up. But I was eventually able to provide that same safety for Sarek because I have the human capacity to do so. And I'm sure that you're just as capable of making Spock feel the same way."

"Safe?" Jim wasn't quite sure he understood what she was saying.

"Yes," she nodded, noticing his puzzled expression. "Safe enough to admit that he loves you."

"_L-loves_ me?!" Jim scoffed and gagged at the same time, his eyes widening in shock that she dared say such a thing where his virgin ears could hear. "Wh-what?" Amanda was staring at him with the most unimpressed look however, as if she severely disapproved of his reaction.

"Oh come now Jim," she scolded. "You can't honestly tell you didn't know." He had no response. "That's the entire idea of t'hy'la. Just a big, fancy word that means love."

"I thought it could mean friendship, or-or brothers too," Jim blathered somewhat pathetically and Amanda rolled her eyes.

"Well yes, but only because vulcan relationships are so static. They come to a point where they realize their feelings, label them accordingly, and from there they don't progress. But if they were granted the correct stimulation, then I assure you that many t'hy'la relationships would graduate to all three. You can't pick and choose which parts of the definition you want to use. That's just silly."

It was ironic to Jim that Spock's human mother seemed to understand the vulcan word better than he did, because that certainly wasn't what he'd explained previously. But he'd also said that he couldn't know anything for certain because he'd never experienced it himself.

Amanda had Sarek. She'd faced every toil he'd had to offer.

"You really didn't realize… did you?" Amanda cocked her head to the side curiously as she looked at Jim, who had paled considerably.

"No!" he blurted, his thoughts and heart racing so quickly that he wasn't sure what to make of anything she'd said. "Are you saying that Spock's _in_ _love_ with me?" He could barely gasp out that last bit.

"Well, yes," she verified and Jim had to place his hand on his chest for some unknown, humanly genetic reason. "But… well, you do feel the same way about him, don't you?"

"No!" He blurted again, his response causing Amanda to lean back, her expression one of rather distasteful surprise. "I mean, I don't…" he ran his hand through his hair now. "I can't… I don't know…" This was all too much. It didn't compute. It was like every word she said was smashing into a brick wall inside his brain. "I didn't think it was possible that he could…"

Her gaze became sympathetic. "T'hy'la is love Jim," she murmured reassuringly. "And Spock loves you very much, even if he doesn't know it." Was it horrible of him to wish that she'd just stop saying it? "He will eventually though, if you're willing to help him get there."

"What…what do you mean?" he glanced at her again, gulping down his abrupt fear. Captain Kirk feared nothing and no one, that was, except for everything to do with what she was saying.

"Well… you have to… help him understand," she was trying to find a better way to explain it. "You're human Jim, which means that if you do love him, you'll want… more…" Now _she'd_ blushed and Jim wondered if perhaps he was getting the vulcan version of the birds and the bees. "But without proper motivation, Spock won't… consider the idea. And if you _don't_ love him, you'll eventually move on… and…"

Jim felt his blood run cold.

"And break his heart…" he muttered. That was why Spock had gotten so upset that first day on the runabout. Because Jim had acted as though it was inevitable that he eventually leave Spock for someone else. No wonder he was having doubts. Staying in a situation that could only end in pain certainly wasn't logical. "I'm such an asshole…"

"I doubt that," Amanda tried to reassure. "Whatever damage that's been done can be remedied. That is…" she raised a skeptical brow, "if you want it to be." Jim didn't immediately reply, his mind finally beginning to sober into the whole idea.

This was it. This was where he had to make his decision. To try and patch things up with Spock or forget it. But in doing either one, he was creating a bigger change than even he knew. If he committed himself to working things out, then he was deciding to take a step into a place that terrified him. He was admitting that which he'd been denying for over two years now. And if he walked away, he'd be starting the slow, inevitable deterioration of his closest relationship, destroying it.

He'd never committed himself to anyone before. What if it turned out he wasn't up to the task? What if, like with everyone else, once Spock was his, he lost interest?

Spock…

_Spock_.

It was _Spock_.

"Of course I want to fix things," Jim decided, the gravity of his admission slamming down on him full force. "As soon as possible. I hate it when we're fighting." He stared at the ground, his guilt over what he'd said recently, since the beginning of their trip to the present day, weighing him down further.

"I'm sure Spock does too," Amanda replied, her posture relaxing now that it was apparent Jim had no intention of leaving her son after learning his big "secret." "Just talk to him. Everything will work itself out." Jim nodded, somewhat dazed now that he'd been through a rather turbulent emotional epiphany.

One thought kept pulsing through his head. One thought alone.

Spock loved him too, which meant that he…

He loved Spock.

**oOo**

He had a plan.

Which, of course, wasn't surprising since James T. Kirk _always_ had a plan (even if it was set phasers to stun, shoot, and run). And now, sitting on the couch wearing his borrowed/gifted vulcan attire, he impatiently scrolled through some reports on his tablet and waited. It was nearing evening and Sarek had already returned, so he could only assume that it was just a matter of time before Spock showed up as well. He'd considered calling him on his private communicator, to see what was taking him so long, but had decided against it on the basis that he didn't want to speed up Spock's return either.

Even Captain Kirk could get nervous.

But as the minutes wore on, he knew, somehow, that the moment of 'plan execution' was at hand. There was a tingling all through his body, an anticipation he couldn't explain. Either way, he decided it must mean that Spock was getting closer, however crazy that might sound. And after everything that had happened, and everything Amanda had said, he couldn't exactly be blamed for his nerves.

But his plan was brilliant. He was going to display, in one simple motion, his respect for vulcan culture, his perceptive and thoughtful attitude towards it, and that he was sorry over everything that had happened between them. He might have to eventually voice that last bit because Spock probably wouldn't comprehend that far, but he'd decided that was irrelevant. The two would have to discuss recent events anyway.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jim took a deep breath, attempting to steady the irrational anxieties flapping around in his abdomen. He could practically count down the minutes, anticipate the way time slowed, until Spock walked in.

Until the swishing noise of the sliding door caused him to nearly jump from his seat.

Turning, his hazel eyes immediately locked with the brown ones looking back. They both stared for a moment, apparently taken aback that they'd accidentally acknowledged each other so soon. Accidentally, yet purposefully at the same time.

Within moments however, Spock smoothly transferred his gaze elsewhere, his stoic face unreadable as Jim watched him.

No, he couldn't watch. He had to act. Now was his chance.

Frozen beside the couch for only a second longer, Jim broke free of the shackles that held him as he made his way through the living room to where Spock stood, removing his shoes, at the entrance. It had become apparent to Jim that footwear was acceptable in the house and that the only reason Spock would be going to such efforts now was to grant himself more time at the door.

More time for Jim to approach him?

"I thought maybe you'd gotten lost," Jim stated as he finally came within speaking range. His voice was low, his fingers twitching and fidgety at his side, a fact he tried quite desperately to hide.

"That is hardly likely since I am quite familiar with the city layout," Spock clarified as he leaned down to pull off one of his boots. His eyes were focused again on Jim however, which served only to make the object of his staring more uncomfortable.

"It's a figure of speech," Jim explained. "I was commenting on how late you are." Spock raised a single eyebrow in acknowledgement, apparently forgoing a comment on the illogic of assuming he was lost simply because he was late, a rather out of character decision. It proved to Jim, however, that he wasn't the only one suffering discomfort.

And as Spock leaned up, having finally removed his boots, he was still staring at Jim, though he couldn't entirely be blamed for doing so. The captain was, after all, standing in the way of him moving further into the house.

Gulping, Jim supposed it was now or never.

"Well, I just wanted to welcome you back," he stated gruffly and, stretching his hand only once before bringing it upwards, he held out two fingers to Spock, hoping he was getting across the message of apology that he was intending.

At first, Spock's own hand twitching, Jim thought he was going to reciprocate. But, instead, brown eyes darting from Jim's hand, up to his face, and back down again, he pulled his fingers into fists before, much to Jim's confusion, casting his captain the most incredulously dismayed look he'd ever seen cross a vulcan's face.

Granted, to someone who didn't know Spock, it probably just appeared as mild skepticism, but to Jim, well, he was shocked by the show of complete and utter alarm painted across his commander's face. He gaped, trying to find the right words to remedy the situation, but since he didn't know what those were, all he could do was stand there and stare like an idiot.

And when it was apparent the discomfort he'd caused, he took a twitchingly hasty step backwards, his hands darting to his sides as he blinked in confusion. Spock stared at him for a moment longer, eyebrows deeply furrowed, before finally deciding to walk away, leaving Jim completely bewildered in the living room as his first officer retreated down the hallway.

Okay… so he'd definitely done something wrong…

Shaking his head, Jim stared down at his hand, still slack-jawed as he replayed Spock's reaction over and over in his head. He didn't understand at all what had happened. He's seen the finger touching thing done numerous times and had concluded it was some kind of greeting. He's seen a few vulcan's doing it in the city; Sarek and Amanda had done it.

So what had gone wrong?

He'd assumed it was similar to a handshake, what with the fingers and everything…

He'd missed something…

"Oh my," snapping his head around, Jim spotted Amanda standing at the other end of the room, her hand to her mouth as she attempted to contain her laughter, though blatantly failing. Her giggling echoed quite loudly and Jim dropped his hands back to his sides in stiff annoyance.

"What did I do _now_?" he asked somewhat temperamentally, aware that the only reason Amanda could be laughing was because she'd seen what had happened. And knew exactly what had gone wrong.

"Well…" she laughed a little longer and Jim sighed in exasperation, his obvious frustration sobering her slightly as she cleared her throat. "You… might have just… tried to…_kiss_ Spock." She was giggling again.

"_What_?!" Jim exclaimed, mortification dropping down and drowning him quite sufficiently. "What are you talking about?!"

_Why_ was she still laughing?

"That's what it means," she explained as she overlapped the first two fingers of each of her hands. "To touch the fingers together in this manner is a vulcan kiss, an action that is only committed by those who have been bonded or are to be so in the near future. It's an extremely intimate, personal gesture." Her smile was far too amused for Jim's comfort.

"You're joking?" She had to be. There was no way he'd just tried to… "How is that… it doesn't make any sense?" Somewhat futilely, he touched his own fingers together, more desperate to understand now than anything.

"Well, it does to vulcan," Amanda replied, still far too smiley for Jim's liking.

"I can't believe this," he huffed, his shoulders dropping in exasperation. "If it's not one thing, then it's…" It was like nothing could go right. He'd encountered quite a few strange and bizarre beings in the few years he'd been in charge of the Enterprise, and he was on the verge of believing that, currently, some other outlandish presence was intent on casting him the worst luck possible!

But Spock would say that was _illogical_.

Spock...

No, he wasn't going to just give up and let things progress from bad to worse. He'd been intent on fixing things. His charm had failed, as it always seemed to when his commander was involved, but despite the devastation of his smooth, _suave_ attempts, he was going to make things right. And if embarrassment was a consequence, well, so be it. He'd deal with it when the time came.

Diving in headfirst might not be advised, but sometimes it was necessary.

Set in his directive, he cast Amanda one more quick glance before setting his shoulders straight and heading after Spock. The hallway was dark and forbidding, seeming to warn him to turn back, to avoid the humiliation, but he persevered. His strength of will, his determination, would not be compromised by whispering shadows.

He located Spock's bedroom door.

He knocked when it didn't allow him passage.

And he _waited_.

"Who is it?" Spock's voice asked a few seconds later, Jim quickly considering the question. By asking the identity of who was behind the door, he must want prior knowledge of who of the three present in the house could desire his time. And if he did so, then he was either only wanting to see select individuals or preferred to prepare himself for any of the possible outcomes.

Or maybe just one.

Jim sighed.

"It's me," he replied. "Let me in, I want to talk to you." Best to be direct.

There was a moment of silence before the door slid open, unlocked at Spock's prompting. Making sure to keep his breath steady, Jim entered, his eyes doing only a quick once-over of the room.

There wasn't a whole lot to see really. If there had been anything decorating the room, it had long since been removed. There was an emptiness about the place, making it quite clear that whoever had lived there had long since moved on. Really, it resembled Jim's guest room more so than a bedroom. No longer was it Spock's personal place, but simply an area he slept when he happened upon a rare visit.

There was a desk to the right, a sleek metal rolling chair as well. And seated therein was Spock, his eyes glued to Jim as the door closed behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before, hands snapping with anticipation, Jim turned and made his way towards the bed parallel to the desk. He sat down without a second thought, avoiding the brown eyes he knew were following him everywhere he went.

The shining stone floor was much less paralyzing to look at after all.

"You desired to sp-"

"Look Spock, I di-"

They both spoke at the same time, Jim snapping his head up at the sound of his commander's voice. But as the room fell silent again, he glanced to the side, gathering his thoughts once more as, this time, he was quite certain Spock would wait for him to begin.

"Before I touch on anything," Jim started, "I want to make it perfectly clear that when you walked in a few minutes ago, I hadn't been trying to… kiss you." A blush immediately ran up his face, but that was far from the furthest distraction. As soon as he'd said it, Spock had looked away and Jim, out of the corner of his eye, could have sworn he'd seen a greenish tint to the tips of his commander's ears. "I'd been under the impression that it meant… something else."

"I see," Spock replied, his tone quiet. "I suppose I… should have reasoned as much. You cannot be very well versed when it comes to vulcan practices and I should not have been be so… taken aback by your prompting." One of his eyebrows cocked a little higher, or so Jim noticed when he finally found the nerve to look over.

"Well, I guess I don't blame you," Jim sighed, not sure whether he wanted Spock to look at him or not. "I mean, I'd be pretty… alarmed too if someone came up to me and tried to kiss me out of nowhere." Yet Jim recalled how his commander's hand had twitched, as if he'd been about to reciprocate to his captain's unintentional tactlessness. Jim wondered only quickly what his reason for rejection had been, what his logic had dictated and why.

"I thought it was like a handshake or something," Jim continued to try and explain away his behavior, his ignorance. "I guess I never even fathomed that something like… touching fingers could be so…" Intimate. Granted, Sarek and Amanda had done it, so it wasn't exactly formal, but just as t'hy'la had so many definitions, there was no way he could have known. Which was probably why he shouldn't have prompted the gesture in the first place…

"To humans, touch is a regular occurrence," Spock explained robotically, still staring to the side and away from Jim. "You use it to comfort, to express friendship, loyalty. There is physical interaction in nearly everything you do. But vulcan are different." He paused, almost as though he was just as tired as Jim of the constant comparisons that were always cropping up between them. "We possess abilities that make touch a more sensitive approach." Finally, he glanced up at Jim, any hints of greenness having vanished from his complexion. "We are contact telepaths, as you know, and too much physical interaction can be… draining as well as unwelcome.

"In order to make sure we do not impede on others private feelings and thoughts, we must be very careful about providing mental walls and barriers when our skin comes in contact with others. It is for that reason that we avoid it unless it is with someone of a more intimate nature."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked curiously, his eyebrows furrowed. No doubt he was being privy to information generally kept between only vulcans.

"It is through mind-melding that we are bonded," Spock explained. "As I was supposed to be with T'Pring." Jim recalled quite well Spock's supposed betrothed, and how he had nearly died in pursuit of her. Though things had worked out in the end, with Spock having gained control of his Pon Farr and not having been required to be with T'Pring after all, they still avoided bringing it up. Jim had the feeling that Spock didn't like remembering the fact that he'd nearly killed his captain.

His t'hy'la. If he was ashamed of anything in his life, it was that day, of such Jim was certain.

"Once a bond is completed, the confidence between those vulcans is absolute. Their minds have been connected in a way that cannot be reversed. And because of that, it is with those individuals that we may open our consciousness and be free of our shields.

"One of the few most sensitive areas for us is our hands, our fingertips. It is why when we mind-meld, we place our hands nearest the brain." There was something sensual in the way he talked, private, yet at the same time totally scientific. It almost brought a smile to Jim's face. "That is why placing our fingers together in the manner you previously tried to initiate is so personal. A mind-meld allows the consciousness of both individuals to connect, but a 'vulcan kiss' is… strictly physical." Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "We sense more than see," he tried to explain. "That is, what the other is… feeling." An admission to emotion. Jim would have to write it on the calendar. "It is not as severe, as probing, as a mind-meld or the bond, which is why it is commonplace to see it in public. It is a representation of the connection the two share, or will share in the near future if that is the case."

"I see," Jim decided. "But, you use your hands for other things. And you've touched people before…" He'd seen it, and experienced it himself. If the situation called for it, Spock wasn't shy about grabbing hold and taking care of what needed to be done.

"Humans kiss with their lips," Spock replied simply. "Yet you do other things with them as well. It is more about the intention, and the level of self-control employed by the vulcan. I do not partake in physical contact unless necessary, and if it is so, I make sure to block out any stray emotions or thoughts that are not called for." He glanced away thoughtfully. "Sometimes it is hard to do so, especially with mind-melding. If the hosts thoughts are… exceptionally active, it can sometimes be overwhelming."

"Like me," Jim grinned.

"Yes," Spock nodded, looking back at his captain. "The few times I have been forced to mind-meld with you, you have proven a very… formidable challenge." His admission only drew Jim's smile wider. "However, that kind of mind-meld, though still undesired, is different than what we spoke of previously. There is a separate connotation when both involved are… actively participating in a certain fashion."

"Oh…" Jim frowned thoughtfully, wondering if he was inferring Spock's meaning correctly. "So is that… what makes the 'bond' then?" To be totally frank, he wasn't sure if he was equating the correct human acts with what Spock was describing or if they were entirely separate things.

"No," Spock shook his head. "The bond is… deeply personal and far more intimate than a mind-meld." Jim cocked a single eyebrow. The few times he'd experienced it, a mind-meld had seemed pretty personal to him. "There is more to the connection than merely reading each other's thoughts."

"Okay…" Jim still didn't understand how there could be anything more private than that. To read someone's mind, well, he'd just assumed that was the deepest one could go. But apparently there was more to it. "So…" he leaned back on the bed, his arms out behind him for support. "If vulcan kiss with their hands, then you don't kiss like humans do?" He couldn't quite imagine it, what making out with a Vulcan would be like. A lot of knuckle petting he supposed.

"Well…" Spock's voice was hesitant and Jim _did_ spot the green to his ears then. A little to his cheeks as well. "Not necessarily…" He was uncomfortable, that much was obvious. "A human kiss to a vulcan is… not the same. Our hands are one of our more sensitive areas, but so are our lips."

"Oh, so, kissing with the lips wouldn't be something you would do unless you were… bonded," whatever the root definition of that was. Even with Spock's explanation, Jim was only grasping parts of what he was saying. The words were guarded, which left Jim wondering if he was really understanding or just coming to crude, inaccurate ideas based on his human experiences.

"Yes, or near so, very near so."

Jim nodded, pretty positive he was _acting_ more like he understood than he really did. Because, well, he didn't even know what a "bond" was exactly, other than that it connected two vulcan through their whole lives and contained some… sexual actions. But was it something that could be ignored, or were they obligated to participate in it, or was it something to be celebrated? And what exactly did it entail?

He really knew next to nothing.

"So if this all happens via these connections you guys have, does that mean that your mother, or humans rather, can't?" Spock furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "Can't feel it I mean."

"I have little experience in such matters," Spock replied. "But I would assume that the connection need only be one sided for the channels on both individuals to be opened." In other words, if one could do so, then, if it was allowed by the one in control, the other participant, vulcan or not, could come to feel the other person's… consciousness as well.

"Really?" Jim couldn't imagine it, being able to explore someone else's mind. He'd had his explored, obviously, by Spock on a few select occasions, but he'd never even considered that it could go the other way. That because Spock had been inside his head, he'd been, in turn, inside Spock's.

But it was a way of their mind's becoming "one," so perhaps there was more truth to that idea than Jim had realized.

"I guess my human mind just can't wrap itself around the concept," Jim commented and realized just barely too late that his words had been the wrong ones. Their conversation had been, up until that point, casual. A little awkward, but not forced. Yet, quite unintentionally, he'd brought to light everything that had happened earlier. Their fight, him walking out, everything.

All of it caused by his humanity and the expectations he hadn't been able to fill.

"So…" Jim tried to remain light about the subject, but the feeling of weight shrouded them both, Spock having glanced to the side again. "I guess I should probably tell you what I was _trying_ to tell you when I tried to kiss you in the first place." What a smooth way of putting it. Sometimes, when it came to Spock, Jim wished he didn't have any vocal cords, or that the boot was already shoved in his mouth.

"When I did that, I was actually trying to apologize," he explained. "Which, obviously, didn't go over well…"

"You have no need to apologize," Spock started.

"I know, I know," Jim waved him off. "Vulcan don't take offense, but that doesn't mean-"

"I was going to say," Spock interrupted, Jim clamping his mouth shut immediately, "that you had no reason to offer apologies because you did nothing wrong, my indifference about offense irrelevant." The two caught each other's eyes again. "What happened earlier today was my fault, not yours."

"Well, that's not _entirely_ true," Jim replied with a slight smile.

"Had I prepared you better for the vulcan mentality, we might have been able to prevent the unfortunate display earlier today." Spock stared down at the floor, his shoulders slumping, and Jim found his lips pulling downwards. "You were correct, I was being distant, and it is due to me negligence that you suffered the consequences."

"Spock," Jim sighed, leaning forward so his elbows were leaning on his knees, his hands twining together. "Maybe that's true, maybe it's not, but blaming yourself for it now isn't going to change what I said, or what you said, or what Terek said." Spock twitched up until their eyes had met again. "What we need to do is… communicate with each other better. Because we do a great job when we're working, but anytime else, not so much."

"You expressed that you wanted me to provide you with emotions," Spock stated. "That you wanted me to… act more akin to a human?"

"No, that's not…" Jim rubbed his temples, trying to get a grasp on how to phrase what he wanted from his first officer. "I don't want you to feel like you should be something you're not. I just…" He paused, thoughtful. "Back when we were on the runabout for example," he pulled his hands back down and clamped them together again. "When I said something that was… stupid," they'd get to that, "instead of telling me it upset you, you went and meditated until you didn't feel it anymore, right?"

"That was the logical thing to do."

"Right," Jim nodded in understanding. "But you see, that same feeling is what's making you doubt your decision in choosing me as your… t'hy'la. And it's what made you unconsciously avoid me. I understand your need to purge emotions, but when I'm the cause of them, or if I'm involved, then you need to tell me. Because I _can't_ read your mind Spock and if we want this to work," he gestured between them with one finger, "then you have to trust me enough to… let me help with those feelings."

"I do not understand what you are asking me…" Spock's brow was severely furrowed.

"I'm saying that I don't have to know _how_ you're feeling, just _what_," Jim replied. "For example, when you go to meditate, you have to include me in that," Spock cocked his head to the side. "Because if you don't at least describe the feelings you're feeling to me, then I'll never know if I've done something wrong, or if we misunderstood each other. Because Spock, what's been happening lately is just one misunderstanding after another. And I don't… I don't like it when we're not on the same page." It was quite disconcerting to him to be totally honest.

"So you do not want me to express my emotions to you," Spock analyzed. "Just explain them."

"Yes, when it's appropriate," Jim leaned back again, finally feeling as though they were getting somewhere. "Like earlier today, after we were done 'talking' to Terek, you became really, well, stiff, like you were holding back a whole bunch of emotions." Spock's eyes flicked back and forth between Jim and the floor. Apparently he'd thought he'd done a better job of hiding it.

"Spock," Jim's voice had become softer as he leaned closer to him, "if you had just explained to me that you were trying to suppress feelings of… inferiority," Spock twitched away from him, "then I would have understood what you were saying a lot better. And I might have even been able to help you."

"You act as though it is easy for me to admit to feeling these things even if I suppress the emotions themselves," he replied, his tone almost sharp to Jim's ears. "Yet you said it yourself that even humans have trouble doing so. I am supposed to be controlled enough not to feel any of that, so why should I be expected to analyze it vocally?"

"I know," Jim tried to sound as reasonable as possible. "And you're right, but you have to trust me Spock, enough to include me this process."

"You refused to include me," he rebuked, pretending to state it as a fact, but Jim could tell he was irritated.

"I… I know…" He was fully aware of the reference. Spock had practically begged him, as far as a vulcan _could_ beg, to confide in him about what had happened with Janice. And he'd refused on all accounts. "I have to… work on communicating better too. I'm not saying it's just you." A sigh escaped his lips. "It's both of us."

They were silent then, thoughtfully deterring their eyes to anywhere but each other.

Spock was the first speak again. "How did you come to the conclusion that I was suffering from some kind of feeling of inferiority?" It had been an irrational emotion, as all of them are, and he'd tried desperately to get rid of it as quickly as possible.

"Your mom actually," Jim replied truthfully. "We, uh, had a nice long chat about you earlier."

Spock raised a single eyebrow. "Fascinating…" He didn't say the word as if spurred by curiosity as he usually did. It sounded more as if he was disturbed by the news. "My mother is a highly perceptive person."

"Don't worry about it," Jim smiled, a slight chuckle shaking his chest. He decided not to bring up that she'd explained the bullying he'd suffered, how emotional he'd been as a child. It wouldn't help the situation any. It gave Jim a better understanding, which was all he needed. Bringing it up would only cause Spock unnecessary grief.

"I most certainly will do no such thing," Spock assured, Jim's grin turning into a full-blown smile then. "To feel worry is a human emotion and I will indulge in nothing at all similar or even close in nature."

"Of course not," Jim shook his head, the two catching eyes once more. "But if you did feel truly worried about it, you'd at least tell me before purging the emotion, wouldn't you?"

Spock's eyebrow twitched. "I see no relevance in before or after the emotion is gone, but yes, I will make an effort to relay such information to you."

"Good!" Jim nodded, his teeth bright inside his smile as he fell back onto the bed. His head hit the sheets silently, his hands twining over his chest as he stared up at the empty ceiling.

"If I may inquire," Spock's voice was always a welcome interruption into Jim's thoughts. "What are your… personal thoughts on my making you my t'hy'la?" Jim blinked, his face becoming straight as he considered the question. "As I said earlier, I was reconsidering what I'd done, but I wanted to make sure that your feelings on the matter had not changed before I made a logical decision concerning the matter."

"My feelings?" Jim questioned, eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Previously you had stated that it was unlikely for a human and a vulcan in our situation to remain so because your human desires would not be fulfilled. Is that how you still feel?"

Jim didn't answer right away, his heart picking up in pace as he considered what Spock was asking him. It was clear to him now, after talking to Amanda, that there was more to the whole t'hy'la idea than he'd realized, much more, which made him even more apprehensive about it.

To be totally honest, though he wasn't agreeing with what he'd said previously about the idea, his current analysis wasn't much better.

The whole notion was just too… huge.

And as the silence dragged on, he heard Spock rise from his seat and come closer. Jim didn't look at him as he approached, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. It wasn't until Spock began to stare down at him that Jim finally turned his head slightly in acknowledgement, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I find that analyzing your expressions sometimes aids in my understanding of your emotions," and so he was going to keep staring until Jim answered him.

The captain sighed and looked away.

"I don't know how I feel about it Spock," he started, his fingers tapping on his chest. "I mean, I know that, right now, I… I want to be your… t'hy'la." His blush came up and attacked his face full force. "But I can't… I can't commit past that right now." Past the present.

"Can you explain any further?" Spock asked, his voice a little too quiet for Jim's liking.

"I just…" Jim took a deep breath. "I'm a human Spock, I'm fickle and undependable and flakey." At least, compared to other races. "I'm being honest when I tell you that I just don't know. And I don't want to make you guarantees that I don't know I'll be able to keep. I mean, right now I feel like I could… but… it's just a lot." Amanda had assured him that Spock… loved him, but what if he could never get him to show it, or realize it? And even if he did, even if they became more than what they were…

What if Jim felt different later on?

It was selfish and he felt horrible for it, but it was also the truth. To deny reality could be worse and he wouldn't do that to Spock. If his first officer was going to take a gamble on him, then he had the right to know all the risks that came along with such a decision.

"You have to understand that when humans choose a… t'hy'la-ish person, we don't just know," he caught Spock's eyes again. "We have to work through a relationship and feel things out. We have to explore every part of what that means and make sure we understand exactly what we're doing. We can't just decide it's logical and go through with it. It takes us years sometimes, of being close to that person, before we even consider a commitment like that."

"I know," Spock verified, his voice still quieter than usual.

"It's not that I don't want to be your t'hy'la Spock, it's just that…" he was getting anxious now, afraid that he was going to lose any chance he had with Spock over his own human indecisiveness. "To humans, something like that is… really scary." Especially for Jim.

"Why?"

"Because!" Jim shot up into sitting, his hands landing on his knees. Yet even with his back to Spock, he could feel those eyes on him. "I mean, what if I'm not 'happy' down the line, or what if it turns out we're not compatible, or…" There were so many things, just thinking about them made Jim want to jump up and run.

But he didn't, he stayed put.

Courage.

"Are you happy _now_?" Spock asked. "Do you believe we are compatible in the fashion you desire?" Jim didn't immediately reply, his lips pursing. He wasn't sure how to respond to be totally honest. Amanda had said that he had to help Spock understand, but he didn't even know how to begin. At least, not without considerable embarrassment on his part.

"I cannot speak for your happiness," Spock's voice had quieted and Jim could almost imagine his eyes falling to the sheets. "But I can attest that as far I have observed, we are compatible and work well in most fashions." Jim closed his eyes and sighed. "Aside from the most recent events, we have had no issues-"

"Working together, you're right," Jim interrupted. "When we're on the Enterprise, when I'm the captain and you're the lieutenant commander, we are compatible. But this is different than that Spock," he attempted to explain. "That's not who we are right now and everything… nothing has been going right."

"I do not understand," Spock objected. "Not who we are? Are we not always as we are on the Enterprise? I fail to comprehend why you have… separated us in this way. As I have already stated, the desire that you somehow change is not one of mine."

"You say that Spock, but you've already made it clear that you expected me to act as I typically _don't_, out of respect for-"

"I merely expressed that you, as your characteristic self, would have acted and understood differently had I been more open about my culture and what was expected. Perhaps, at the time, I was not entirely clear on my standing due to…" he paused for only a moment, "but I do explicitly recall making quite clear my views on _not_ desiring a change in you.

"Jim…" Spock's voice became a murmur, "I do not see why there must be a difference in how we approach each other now in comparison to when we are aboard the Enterprise. It is that connection upon which I based my decision to make you my t'hy'la."

"There _has_ to be a difference Spock," Jim muttered, his shoulders dropping. "You're my friend," turning his head over his shoulder, he leaned back on the bed just enough to catch his balance as he looked at his commander, who was taking in his gaze equally, "and I wouldn't want to change that for anything. But this… this t'hy'la thing, you're asking me to give up something that I just… can't…" he took a deep breath. "Not unless I can… somehow… get it from you… instead." He couldn't stop his blushing, the shame at how ridiculous he thought he sounded.

"Could you please clarify," Spock asked with furrowed brows and Jim wanted to die. Instead, however, he whipped around and stood, beginning to pace as his nerves snapped across his skin. "I offer my condolences," Spock continued. "I have upset you… again."

"I'm not upset Spock," Jim snapped, regretting his tone as soon as he'd released it. "Sorry. I'm just… not exactly in my comfort zone right now."

"I have taken note of this," Spock replied. "You do seem rather… nervous, a trait I would not generally assign to your person. Rather, it is quite beyond anything I would have expected from you." Yes, Spock was well aware that Jim was usually smoother, calmer, more put together. This pacing, agitated man was not a usual occurrence by any means. "I ask, again, that you explain."

"I'm trying!" Jim huffed as he came to a halting stop, his hands going his temples in frustration. He wasn't like this, wasn't the type to express his personal wants and needs, mostly because he didn't normally have any of this _particular_ sort. He was James T. Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise, the man that could charm anyone into bed with just a smile. Yet here he was, uncertainly tripping and falling over his first officer.

He sighed. "Spock, by making me your t'hy'la, you're asking me to make you the most important, valued person in my life, forever, and I just don't know that I can do that. Not only because I'm just… not sure I can make a commitment like that, but because, as a human, I need… more than just… _this_."

"This?" Spock cocked his head slightly.

"Yes, _this_," Jim determined. "You and I as we are. If you want me to be your t'hy'la, then we can't just… be as we are. We _have_ to change."

"Jim," Spock shook his head just barely. "Changing is… contradictory of the sentiment. I chose you as you are, as I am. To alter that is to… change the variables, to-"

"I want _more_ Spock," Jim tried to reiterate as he took a step closer to the bed. "Maybe change is the wrong word, but this, us being friends, brothers, it's not enough. Not if you want me to remain closer to you than anyone else. Because if I can't fulfill my human needs, then… then I can't even begin to consider committing myself to you in… any way."

There, he's said it. And hopefully in a fashion that Spock could understand.

His commander didn't reply at first, seeming to consider his words as his expression became, as far as Jim could tell, extremely thoughtful.

"I see," Spock eventually decided and Jim truly hoped he _actually_ did. "You desire the closeness that many humans share," his voice was considerate, as if he'd come to a sudden epiphany. "I had not even fathomed the idea that you would want such things from me. Am I correct in assuming that you mean to say you are attracted to me?"

"Ohmygod_Spock_," Jim whined rather pathetically, his cheeks burning to the point of pain he was blushing so severely. Turning on his heel, he clamped his head in his hands, his fingers in his hair as he leaned his forehead against the closest wall. He wanted, more than anything, to bang it there continually.

Why had he had to say, _ask_, such a thing so… literally?

"I will ignore your reference to such a fictional persona and assume that you are merely distressed over my inquiry," Spock decided. "Though I fail to understand why. If you are attracted to me, then there is no reason to be shamed by it. You cannot help it, for it is, certainly, one of those illogical feelings no one has the power to control." Even if they could suppress it.

"You know when I told you that even though humans seem expressive, there are some things they'd rather keep to themselves?" Jim asked, his voice muffled as he still refused to retreat from the wall. "This is one of those things Spock." He didn't understand why this was so mortifying. He'd admitted to plenty of women, men, that he was attracted to them. But this time… this time it was different. This was _Spock_ and by being honest he could be altering entirely how they related to each other.

"I fail to understand why," Spock replied. "I had no previous knowledge that you felt so about me, but if I had…"

"You'd have what?" Jim almost laughed. "You've already said that, because I'm a man, being with me would be illogical."

"That is true," Spock wasn't making Jim feel any better. "I have not, before this moment, ever entertained the idea. But only because I never would have considered that you would feel so." Somewhat hesitantly, Jim turned his head until he was able to see Spock out of just one eye. He refused to leave the wall however. "Though, must I remind you that the entire notion of a t'hy'la is illogical?"

"Meaning?" Jim wished he could just disappear into the stone.

Spock twitched a single eyebrow upwards. "Well, I am quite flattered that you would assign feelings of attraction to me and I must admit that, now that you have brought the matter to my attention, I have considered your implications about our relationship in a different light." This time, both his eyebrows rose, his gaze sinking downwards thoughtfully. "And I will confess that, because you previously asked me to relay such things to you, the thought… pleases me considerably." His eyes flicked back to Jim's. "The pleasure, Captain, I find is quite strong; rather difficult to purge."

Jim really did grin then, even if only half of such was visible to Spock.

"Why do you insist on calling me by my professional title?" he asked. "I thought I told you to call me Jim."

"I am not sure," Spock replied. "I suppose it grants me… emotional security… _Captain_." Spock was staring up at him from below those long lashes and Jim couldn't help smiling even wider. Yet at the same time, a helpless groan escaped his lips and he turned the front of his forehead back into the wall.

"You still sound displeased," Spock observed.

"I don't know what I am," Jim decided with an airy sigh, his whole body feeling weak now that he'd made some sort of breakthrough. What it meant however, he wasn't quite sure. Admitting to physical attraction was hardly the first step. There was still the whole… emotional bit to consider. "I'm just… I don't know…"

"I was under the impression my response would be considered favorable," Spock replied. "Is this not the case? Or are you still distressed over something else? Do you desire comfort?" Jim almost laughed at the barrage of questions. His attitude was no doubt baffling to his commander.

"Comfort?" Jim shook his head somewhat bitterly, his smile still present.

"Yes."

Jim's eyes nearly popped out of his head in surprise at Spock's abruptly close proximity. He hadn't even heard him get up off the bed and come any closer, yet he was quite positive his second was standing right behind him. Whipping around, his eyes darted upwards until they entered Spock's line of sight, that brown gaze searching as he stared down at his captain.

Jim's breath caught in his throat, his heart beating fast as he registered the distance, or lack there of it, between him and Spock. Granted, the two stood quite close on a regular basis, Jim never shy about invading personal space, especially Spock's, but after the words that had just been expressed between them…

Well, needless to say, Jim felt as though the air was slightly warmer.

"Physical stimulation perhaps," Spock murmured softly, Jim gulping. At this point, he wasn't sure if Spock was simply referencing their conversation from back on the Enterprise a few days prior or actually flirting with him.

Or perhaps his erotically charged human brain was simply jumping to conclusions.

Brown eyes still intent on Jim's own, Spock reached forward and, somewhat hesitantly, brushed his first finger over the top of his captain's hand, which was hanging stiffly down at his side.

Jim had never felt anything quite like it.

Spock was right, it hadn't been like the mind-meld. Rather, there was an aesthetic quality to the sensation, a burn left across Jim's flesh where he'd made contact with Spock. The charged emotions flashed through him, remaining for only a few moments after Spock had severed their connection. It sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach, his mouth falling slightly agape as he furrowed his eyebrows curiously.

He couldn't explain exactly what he'd felt from his commander, the touch had been too quick, but whatever it had been, it'd been strong; shortly shocking.

And oddly erogenous. Not to an extreme, but rather softly so.

Like a human kiss, only all through his body.

"Is that what it's like to touch you when you're not… blocking everyone out?" Jim asked breathily, aware that only inches stood between them.

"Yes, with my hands in any case," Spock verified, his tone equally hushed, though the effect sounded gruffer coming from between his lips. Gravellier. "Was it extremely overpowering for you?" He'd cocked his head to the side, honestly concerned, but Jim was shaking his head, his smile returning.

"No," he assured. "It was…" He didn't even know how to describe it. "Do it again." And as per usual, his commands were obeyed immediately, Spock replacing his finger atop Jim's thumb, only this time his touch wasn't quite so brief. Instead, he allowed just the back of finger to rest there, Jim registering the sensations more acutely.

It wasn't emotions that he felt so much as it was… vibrations of them. He wasn't granted the full-scale feeling, but something akin to a thrumming, throbbing idea. It drummed up his arm, growing weaker the further into his body it traveled. But it wasn't unpleasant, no, it was more like beads were being rolled under his skin, messaging into his nerves the emotions Spock was projecting unto him.

Understanding. Acceptance. Longing. _Excitement_.

All of it delivered in a pulsating package.

And as Jim moved his hand closer, so more of their flesh was touching, the feeling intensified, able to travel further through his body. Out of an unconscious desire to get a better idea, he reached out and grabbed Spock's hand, and was then thoroughly surprised when Spock pulled back sharply, taking a step away from him.

"I'm sorry," Jim spouted immediately, automatically assuming he'd done something wrong. Spock's eyebrows were heightened considerably, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean to…" Well, do whatever it was he'd done.

"No, it is fine," Spock assured. "I was just… not expecting so much." He shook his head, as if shaking away his shock, and Jim furrowed his brows inquiringly. "Your hand…" he started. "Your mind, it is… very open. More so than when I have previously mind-melded with you. I was not expecting to be… stricken so."

Jim's eyes widened. "I'm sorry," he shook his head quickly and leaned back against the wall, as far from Spock as possible. "I hadn't even realized I was… doing that." Spock could control his emotions and had perhaps been limiting what he'd allowed Jim to experience. But that wasn't a skill humans were trained in.

"There is no need to apologize," Spock replied, his brown eyes seeming to soften. "I was just… taken aback by the fierceness of your emotions. I realized before that you had an… incredible mind Jim, but the connection between us was even broader than it ever was before, and I was only touching your fingers to mine." He sounded almost puzzled, but Jim couldn't understand why.

Yet, flashing across Spock's consciousness, was the time, a few days before, that he'd touch Jim during sleep and been assaulted by his dreams.

For some unknown reason, Jim's mind was reaching outwards in ways that humans generally couldn't accomplish. Usually the human consciousness was barricaded by natural born defenses that kept it trapped and confined to only the brain. Vulcan were different, their intellects traversed further, emanating to their fingertips, their lips, etc… and they had to go through rigorous mental training to learn how to keep their feelings at bay so they wouldn't transfer such things to others. It was the root of their mental control as well as their telepathic abilities, something humans had no need of, thus they expressed themselves freely.

But Jim… he'd just trespassed on Spock's mind in a way he shouldn't have been able to. Granted, the commander had opened his consciousness to allow Jim as much, but he had the feeling that, had his captain wanted to, he'd have been able to force his way through anyway, just as he had during his dreams. His touch had simply been that… strong.

To be quite frank, it worried Spock (despite how he tried to dismiss the emotion). Not for his own sake, but for Jim's. Having such an unguarded mind was dangerous.

"That's not normal… is it?" Jim asked, his tone dropping as he watched Spock silently pondering.

"No," Spock shook his head. "Not in humans." Subconsciously, Jim glanced down at his hand, his eyebrows smashing even closer together. "However," Spock continued, "your intellect is far higher than any other human I have ever encountered." His display at the seminary earlier that day had proven as much. "Perhaps you are capable of reaching such heights because of that." It was an idea, one both of them doubted, and Jim felt a stone begin to form in his stomach.

Just because he was intellectually gifted didn't mean his brain makeup was somehow alien. Genetically, as far as humans, what Spock had sensed was impossible. However, the commander had no other alternatives to offer.

Very concerning indeed.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Jim asked, his hand balling into a fist as it fell back down to his side.

"Of course not," Spock stated simply. "I was startled, that is all." Jim didn't look as though he totally believed in the words, despite the fact that vulcan didn't lie, and glanced to the floor. "Do not distress over it," Spock continued. "I am just was capable of releasing such just as fiercely, I simply have been educated not to. You are human and therefore such teachings never should have been necessary for you."

"But they are…" Jim muttered, both of them still puzzled.

The troubled concern painted over his captain's features didn't go over well with Spock however, who, now that he'd gotten a better understanding of his t'hy'la, was far too apt to return the attitude to its previous status.

Taking the step forward that he'd previously retreated, Spock diminished the distance between them once again and jolted Jim into snapping his hazel gaze back up to his commander's. Feeling the somewhat unusual sensation of the corners of his lips pulling upwards, Spock just barely, _barely, _smiled as he pulled up his hand and held out two fingers to Jim.

His captain glanced down at the gesture for only a few seconds before, somewhat hesitantly, bringing his own fingers up to match. This time it was Jim's turn to initiate the contact however and, slowly, he brought their fingers together, the vibrations they'd previously indulged in starting out first as vague thrummings, but intensifying as more of their skin was pressed together.

Jim found the whole thing quite… incredible. And it left him rather breathless.

"I sense fear," Spock murmured softly, his two finger dragging up and along Jim's until he'd reached his knuckles. Slowly, he pulled his touch along the back of his captain's hand, "What is it that you are afraid of?" and back under, sensually bringing his touch back around to where it had begun.

The pattern had sent stronger surges through Jim's system, as if Spock had deepened their contact momentarily.

Deepened the kiss.

"That can't be the only thing you sense," Jim replied, voice husky. Doing as Spock had done, he dragged his fingers back and atop the back of his commander's hand, Spock taking a slightly deeper breath before answering.

"Of course not," Spock muttered as Jim slowly pulled his touch back to where it had come from. "But I find it odd that it is such a dominant emotion currently, especially since I know you to fear very little." Losing his captaincy, his friends, his ship, yes, but other than that, Spock could think of nothing else.

"Well, there are some things scarier than danger and uncivilized planets," Jim assured with a half-grin, his eyes trained on their fingers as Spock began to twine them together, the other two digits also opening and adding to the sensation. "You, for one."

"You fear me?" Spock asked.

"Terribly," Jim admitted, his hand interlacing with Spock's.

"Why?" his voice was a whisper.

"Because…" Jim closed his eyes, indulging himself in the throbbing ambiances entirely. "I'm not sure that-"

Snapping their heads around, the connection between them was quickly and painfully severed by both as the door to Spock's bedroom slid open. Amanda stood there, staring at them with raised eyebrows as her eyes focused on the space between them, or what little of it there was. Sensing as much, Spock stepped back, his movements making it all the more obvious how close they'd been.

"I just wanted to tell you that… dinner's ready," she explained, her gaze knowing and causing Jim to look away, his cheeks pinking. "I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"You have not," Spock assured, though it was quite obvious that his mother didn't believe a word of it. Lips pursed against her own knowing grin, she cast one quick look at both of them before turning and disappearing down the hall, the door sliding closed behind her.

Jim sighed.

"That was unexpected," was all Spock said and Jim felt a grin stretch across his face as he turned to look at his commander. Spock wasn't looking at him however, instead staring at the door, and it was then that Jim noticed the rather prominent green tinge to his cheeks.

The captain hadn't been the only one embarrassed by Amanda's entrance.

"C'mon," Jim headed towards the door with a chuckle, beckoning Spock after him. "Your mother doesn't strike me as the type that likes to be kept waiting." He turned to catch Spock's eye, the two staring at each other for only a moment before his commander nodded in agreement.

Approaching the door, it slid open and Jim stepped aside to allow Spock through first. And as he did, his second just barely reached out and brushed the side of his hand against Jim's. A quick jolt was sent through him and, watching Spock enter the hall, he felt his smile widen considerably.

Rubbing his hand as he followed, he came to the firm conclusion that he could get used to this.

**oooooooooooooo**

**A/N: **Aw snap, first kiss. It's been interesting writing this story because there's already so much character development from the series that it makes focusing on their relationship a more…I don't know exactly. But I find that I want to write more about the development if their relationship itself rather than what led up to it. I guess because their relationship is so "canon" already, to focus on them developing feelings for each other would seem rather repetitive. I'd rather have such feelings already present and continue on from there. Either way, it should be interesting because the relationship dynamic between their cultures differs so greatly that I don't think things are going to go as smoothly as Jim and Spock might like, lol. It's also been interesting writing them outside the enterprise. Their ability to cope with personal matters leaves much to be desired, lol.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed and the next chapter should be very exciting, for more reasons that one XD

Please R&R! I love to hear your thoughts and appreciate them beyond belief!

Also, for anyone who didn't get the memo, I changed the category of this story to TOS, editing the chapters to fit such. Just so you know.

LOVE YOU AND R&R!


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